Synchro Frame: Identity [IC/PG-16+]

BANZAI!!!! · August 26, 2016

~Tactical Roleplay Arsenal Productions presents~

~A Zai Mecha Anime Roleplay~

Act II: Identity

FILE 2-01: Beneath Blue Skies

The sun shone, blindingly bright as ever, down on the barren browns and snow-capped whites of the Italian alps. Even in death, Mother Nature still somehow possessed a beauty and grandeur that, no matter how hard he may try, Man could never hope to match. Even despite the familiarity that cam from flying over this same landscape numerous times, Leo Vega still found the vista magnificent. It soothed him, being alone in the sky on a clear day, with nothing but the dull hum of Canis's thrusters reverberating through the synchro frame's armor and the occasional chime from its computer for company. It helped him take his mind off of things.

"Canis here. Sector A-4 is all clear. Beautiful weather we're having." Leo flipped a switch on his control console, setting his radio to receive a reply. On cue, Gavin Decker's voice responded. It seemed that he had stolen the operator's chair again. The poor woman was barely allowed to do her job with Gavin around.

"Roger that. 'Tross should have an easy time coming in today. Finish your sweep and come on back."

"Yes sir. Canis over and out." Leo shut his comms off and continued on his flight path. Even though SAF was still very much at war with the surface, the past three weeks had been almost freakishly uneventful. Both sides seemed to be licking their wounds after the battle in the Atlantic, and as a result TRAP had had very little to do but sit, wait, and patrol. On one hand, this was probably for the best. With Melissa Juniper missing in action and several of TRAP's pilots having been reassigned, the unit was drastically short on manpower. The respite had given the officers time to call in favors and pull strings, netting TRAP both personnel and equipment that it sorely needed. On the other though, the wait itself was torture, at least for Leo. He couldn't get Mel's loss out of his mind, the memory of being unable to do anything but watch as the Terran frame cut her Savior to pieces, bringing back that all-too-familiar sick feeling in his stomach.

The fact that Lauren wasn't around anymore to talk him through it made it all the worse. His sister, ever a source of wisdom, if not comfort, had always knew what to tell him to help him think his way through a problem. Coming to terms with her disappearance was still proving difficult. In all likelihood, Lauren was dead, but the fact that SAF had never found her body left that torturous, faint glimmer of hope for her survival in Leo's mind. Closure, it seemed, was not a luxury he could afford.

A ping on his HUD brought Leo back to the present. A friendly IFF and a silver glimmer on the horizon indicated the presence of the Albatross, TRAP's mobile carrier. Today she was loaded not only with supplies for the base, but also with new pilots and new Synchro frames, a sign that the waiting would soon be over, and TRAP would head into battle again. Leo increased his speed and flew toward the Albatross, intent on meeting it in mid-air and guiding it in as he finished his sweep of TRAP's home airspace.

---

Meanwhile back on the base, Gavin Decker was at last expelled from the operator's chair, allowing the Petty Officer to take back her post and resume directing TRAP and the smattering of other combat frame squads in the airspace. Everyone present, Gavin included, had a little bit of a laugh about it, the petty officer giving him a playful slap on the wrist as he got up out of her chair. "Go sit in your own chair. I'm sure the Skunk is lonely." She said as Gavin made his way out of the room.

"I would, but he's got a date with Aeollia today, so I had to make do with yours." was his comeback. The conversation ended as he left the room, studying a large packet of personnel files as he strolled down the hallway. He'd seen some of these before. Akira Jiyuu had been a regular fixture on base for quit some time, and Owen Bell was a pilot that he'd personally selected for the unit. Familiarity was good. The rest though, were names and machines he didn't recognize, probably recruits Thomas and Adelheid had picked out. They were all supposed to arrive today, just in time for a deployment, knowing command, and Gavin was doing his best to get as much information committed to memory as possible. There were also other forms, some involving the Von Drackenmoore Twins' stint in solitary confinement, others dealing with more mundane matters like unit supplies. As usual, a ton of information to keep track of, and no one to help himself, Adelheid, or Thomas sort through it any easier. Independence came at a price, it seemed.

Still, there wasn't much time to worry about that now. Too many things to do, and soon too many people to meet.

Super Chaos Sonic · August 26, 2016

-BGM-

It had been an eventful few weeks as far as he was concerned. But once more, he was sitting in the Albatross on its way back to TRAP, his second home. At the moment, Akira was scribbling away at a small notebook, working on a base design for another Frame. So far, he was fairly pleased with how the design and form took when he finally finished it.

"Another good looking design." Akira smiled, before putting on the upper right hand of the notebook page: Frame Design - 17 | Name - Xeno. Probably gonna have to file this one with the others and probably send them off to the higher ups in order to get them patented for TRAP. he thought, closing the notebook as he glanced over the Frame that was directly a ways away from him: Raiju Kai.

"We're almost home...so that means we'll be back in action, Raiju." Akira said, standing up before moving over towards his Frame to check if everything was green lit on it. Thankfully, just as he checked a few moments before, everything still was.

Alright, Flight Unit at a 100% functionality...Twin Arc Cannons are charged and fully functional. Akira thought, going down the list on the check up. Masamune...as always, ready for use. Good...Raiju Kai is up and running with no bugs.

Maeriberii Haan · August 31, 2016

"The newbies are here already?"

Resting on the sole armchair on the office was a tall, blonde woman on a black suit. Looking quite young physically on a glance, her tired expression made her seemed to be older than she was however. The bags on her eyes signified a lack of healthy amount of sleep, something made even clearer with the half-empty coffee dispenser situated not too far from her. The large stacks of documents on her desk had been worn down and folded messily all over, perhaps from how much she had been going through them. The interactive screen visible from the glass of her desk showed a map of an ocean range, with dots all over it.

Adelheid sighed. She hadn't been coming out of her office much the last few days, and she looked like an utter wreck now. She lied to Gavin about being busy with the papers regarding the new pilot transfers and the aftermath of their last battle, but the truth was that she had finished dealing with those a long time ago, and she's still focusing her effort on finding Melissa.

"She couldn't be dead." That was the belief that she stubbornly kept on repeating. Lauren was a hard enough blow for the team, but the loss of Melissa could demolish any sense of coherency left on the team. Her mind kept on telling her that just like Lauren, Melissa was lost and nothing that she could do now would magically find her alive and well, but she refused to acknowledge it in any way. She still kept on holding the small hope that Lauren was still alive, and right now she would still do it for Mel.

With a clear sign of reluctance, she went up from her seat and did a bit of stretching to ease her tense muscles from too much sitting. With how much she stayed on her office, she had turned it into her second room, complete with a bathroom and wardrobe of its own. The fact that Aeolia was still in critical condition only weighed her down more. As she took the spare clothing from the wardrobe and dragged herself to the bathroom, a thought passed her mind.

Was she even fit to lead this group that she never really was a part of?

"Gavin, if you can hear me, get the newbies prepared and well near the hanger. It's perhaps best to deal with the introduction and all that jazz there.

I'm coming down in a bit."

Turning off her comm unit after addressing her second-in-command, Adelheid looked back on the mirror before her. The bath she took made her look less of a wreck than before. The last thing she wished the newbies to see was how their new boss was a mess. The eyebags were hard to hide however, and her fatigue from all the sleepless nights were still visible even after her taking the effort to relax, so she applied an extra dose of makeup to hide them. It felt funny wearing that much. Even Aeolia would say that the amount she used was overkill. She felt like a clown with that much powder on her face just to make herself look less pitiful.

Trying her best not to laugh at what kind of wreck the last few days had turned her into, Adelheid left her office and went on to meet up with the new people she would lead to their early grave.

Makο · September 1, 2016

Cider.

That one word had been floating around Owen Bell's head the entire day. During his frame maintenance, he thought about Cider. While filing his paperwork, he thought about Cider. Laundry, Cider. Bootshining, Cider. Punching out for break time, Cider.

Owen always knew he tended to be the kind of person who, when he gets hooked on something, it's all he seems to be able to think about. Last time it happened, it was with this one certain brand of chocolate ration that had less of a dose of butyric acid than the usual; he ended up scrounging up as many bars as he could, hoarding them in his old personal fridge he had in his room; just one of many of his relics lost during that fated battle. To him, it had seemed so long ago, despite the month or so that had passed. Up until now, he had never really given any thought to his personal belongings he had lost during that time; not that he didn't realize it, but more so that he knew it would do naught but depress him. However, now seemed like as good a time as any for this sort of thing.

Speaking of, Owen had made his way into the dusty dingy bar aboard the Albatross. Certainly nothing special or fancy, but it suited all of the crew's needs, and it was generally a quiet place. One for self-reflection, amidst some light music playing in the background. Drinking was never really his game, typically not comfortable with the mind-altering aspect of alcohol, but given the events of recent, it was all he found comfort in. That, and spending his time in front of a computer screen, rewriting damaged code from the dumb AI chip he recovered. She... wasn't a total loss, but she barely functioned at best, sometimes not even being recognized as an AI card by his computer. Taking a seat at the bar, he sighed when thinking about the work he'd have to do to get her back to the way she was.

"One Cider, please. Wassail brand."

Wordlessly, the bartender (a figure he often saw doubling as an onboard chef) received a bottle from the shelf behind him, gently setting it in front of him. Popping the cap off, the man returned to the business he had been attending to, whatever it may have been. Owen took a sip of the concoction in the bottle, first wincing once the alcohol registered but soon relaxing as the sweetness of the apples took over. He didn't have a tongue for most other alcohols, but cider hit that sweet spot that let him enjoy it as any other drink.

An entire box of spare parts he was hoarding. A collection of tools he had received from his father around half a year ago. A new pair of slacks he had never worn. Owen began listing off what he could remember losing when his old de-facto home was sent to the bottom of the ocean. The alcohol was already beginning to affect him, thanks to his slender frame and low alcohol tolerance; of course, being something he only discovered recently. Two weeks worth of pay he had never cashed in. An old family photo his mother gave him before leaving his home Shell. A year's worth of data and schematics he kept forgetting to back up. The drink had a soothing affect on his mind, despite the distraught undertone he was feeling. Here, at his new station, everything felt sterile and strange. There were no mementos of home, no recognizable sights or sounds, no old friends to keep him company.

He took another gulp of his drink. It was going to be a long month.

Dad · September 17, 2016

The Dark Tide

"Knight to h-7," he declared, moving the chess piece across the board, and preparing for his next move. "Check." His eyes wandered over her body, and he could sense her tensing up as he analyzed every inch of her. With a malignant smile, he folded his arms and waited patiently for her advance. "Take your time. I want to see how good you are under pressure," he said with emphasis.

She leaned forwards in her orange jumpsuit, her hand on her chin as her white eyes stared into the chessboard, and her legs folded beneath her as she sat. She had already memorized all the pieces, and so, by simply listening and "observing", she knew where each piece on the board was located. But chess was a game she was already familiar with. She knew the game well, and--though playing with a more experienced partner was more challenging--it was something that didn't concern her. What concerned Melissa most was that this man was trying to mold her. He had spend an extraordinary amount of time talking with her, after initially berating and attacking her. He had suddenly tried to become this overwhelming fatherly figure who "only had her best interests in mind", while keeping her locked up in the brig of his ship. It was a sick, twisted obsession this man had developed, and it was quickly becoming uncomfortable. Fortunately, a third party was almost always present.

His movements had been subtle. Brushing her hair back, placing a hand on her shoulder, inviting her to private lessons. But Melissa was no fool. She wouldn't be caught dead being submissive to such a twisted man. More twisted than even his finger happy Vice Admiral, who she had grown to trust her well being to. "King to e-8," she announced, carefully reaching for the King and moving him one space to the right. "Have you learned everything you've wanted to learn yet, Admiral Takeo?" Melissa asked, her expression unchanged as she focused harshly on the chess game.

Takeo's smile didn't fade. "Oh, don't be coy. You haven't told me anything yet," he said, moving his rook into position. "Rook to e-7. Check."

Melissa nodded, analyzing her remaining moves. Unfortunately, she didn't have any. Takeo had successfully beaten Melissa four games in a row. "I concede," she proclaimed, sitting back against the cold walls of her cell. "And that was my point, Admiral. I haven't told you anything, and I don't plan to. Either kill me, or make a trade. And by now, my squad is growing anxious. I'm sure they realized that without finding a body, I can't be dead. So you'd better make a decision soon."

Melissa let her legs fall over the edge of the bed, dangling above the floor.

Takeo stood up straight, still smiling. "Yet, my dear. What you fail to understand is that, I'm just warming up to you. I'm even starting to like you. And it's much easier to break the toys that I like," Takeo said, turning for the cell door. "You should practice a bit more. You've gotten better, but you're still sloppy. I expect a better game from you next week." Straightening the collar on his uniform and placing his hat back on his head, Takeo folded his arms behind his back, and marched dutifully out of the prison cell and up towards the main deck. "Zalwara," he called, stopping at the foot of the staircase. "Ensure our prisoner's meal is well prepared today."

Zalwara, who had been silently watching from outside of the cell, standing guard near the door, quickly cut his eyes to the doorway, then back to Melissa. "Yes, Admiral," he said nonchalantly. As Takeo disappeared, Zalwara quickly reached into Melissa's cell, and began to put away the game of chess. Putting the porcelain pieces back into their storage case and carefully sliding the glass board into the appropriate compartment in its original boxing, Zalwara took the game away silently.

He went to close Melissa's cell door, and return to his duties, when she spoke up.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Zalwara remained silent, saying nothing. He turned his sharp eyes to her and waited.

"Your combat skills are good. But you're not a good soldier. You're a lap dog," she said, not looking up at Zalwara.

An audible "hmph" escaped him, as he closed Melissa's cell door. "You know nothing about my relationship with the Admiral. You're an outsider. You should pay attention to what's going on with your own world. Not mine," he declared, turning to the doorway, and retreating to the upper deck.

Melissa lay down in her bed on her side, one hand beneath her pillow as she close her eyes and whispered. "I know good soldiers deserve better."

BANZAI!!!! · September 17, 2016

"You're smiling."

"And?"

"You never smile. What's up?"

The curt, cold tone with which Lauren Vega and Drayden Seidrich addressed one another had become a regular fixture of their relationship in the past few weeks. Neither of the quite knew if it was the result of their clashing personalities, or the grudging respect the had begun to show one another despite them, but they had both come to a sort of unspoken agreement that it was just better to talk to each other this way. Best not to make a scene in the crew lounge, especially not when Lauren was enjoying an afternoon of liberty.

"Fresh meat. An SF this time." As Drayden said this, Lauren raised an eyebrow. Most of Shark Squad's veteran CF pilots had been transferred out for frontline combat duty, leaving the team's two SF pilots as the only active members. Being reinforced seemed... odd.

"Any idea why?"

"Beats me. I figured it was a matter of time before they shipped the two of us out as well. Maybe the higher ups have something interesting planned."

"So let me guess, you want me to show her around?" Drayden let out a hmph.

"Nah. I'll take care of that. But in return...."

"What is it this time?" Now she was a little annoyed. Doing Drayden's busywork was never fun. and If it wasn't busywork he wanted, then odds were she'd be playing a part in Shark Squad's (read: Drayden's) little feud with the Vice-Admiral and his men. Part penis-measuring contest, part clash of egos. All pointless.

"Why don't you go give the Vice-Admiral a hand? I'm sure being Yoshino's lap dog keeps him too busy for his actual duties."

"Help how, exactly? Paperwork isn't exactly what I had in mind for the afternoon."

"He's making food for the Admiral's pet SAFey. You're a domesticated enough woman to know how to cook, right?" Now Lauren went from annoyed to mad, visibly so. But of course, picking a fight with Drayden in the crew lounge was a terrible, terrible idea, and so she responded in the only way she feasibly could.

"Yes, sir."

"That's a good girl. Run along now. I've got forms to fill out for new recruit. Shepard's her name, I think. She should be here today."

Lauren left wordlessly. Nothing productive would come from responding to him. Maybe she'd get lucky and the Vice-Admiral would be accommodating enough to let her vent to him. Giving him ammunition against Drayden was the simplest, easiest way to pay her CO back for ruining her free afternoon.

Drayden, meanwhile, stayed for a few extra minutes before he too got up and left. The next transport was due to arrive soon, and in all likelihood his new subordinate was on board it with her frame.

---

"Gavin, if you can hear me, get the newbies prepared and well near the hanger. It's perhaps best to deal with the introduction and all that jazz there. I'm coming down in a bit."

"She does know they aren't here yet, right?" Gavin thought to himself as he made his way up through the corridors and into the hangar, which at that moment was gently rumbling as its hydraulics raised the base's runway out from under the ground, ready to receive both the Albatross and the Canis. For once, everything was actually looking ship-shape, though that was probably due to the lack of operational machines moreso than it was to any organizational skill TRAP's staff may have had.

Conspicuously absent, however, was TRAP's head mechanic and researcher, Aeollia Audevie. Normally, her modest red civilian dress and angry tirades directed toward the military personnel in the hanger were the first things Gavin saw, but today there was nothing. A month ago, this would have caused him to let out a sigh or relief, but now it only served to indicate that she was, despite what he thought he had heard, still in a field hospital, recovering from injuries sustained in an ill-advised combat sortie during the battle in the Atlantic. It was something that neither she, or any of TRAP's officers, wanted, but high command had insisted on to boost the unit's numbers. As much as he disliked her as a person, Gavin would have much rather seen her back on duty. No one really deserved to suffer through that kind of ordeal. He frowned, and left the hangar. Nothing he could really do there to make himself useful. Plan B was to locate Adelheid and get everything else ready.

---

"Wow! I didn't think they had a bar onboard!"

A bubbly, excited voice that almost certainly would have caught Owen's attention reverberated through the Albatross's bar as its owner, a thin, lithe girl with blonde hair and a cute face, entered the room. Quickly, she sat down at the stool next to him, though seemingly unaware of his presence. "'scuse me, sir, what do you have to drink?" She asked, still full of energy. It was only now that she realized that there was another person in the room, a realization that seemingly brightened her already chipper mood. She extended her hand.

"You don't look like a crew member, so I'm guessing you're a pilot like me... am I right? 'name's Evette. Yours?"

---

Makο · September 18, 2016

Slightly buzzed and rather loosened up, Owen didn't hesitate to make his thoughts known to the sudden newcomer, as he stared at her with wide-eyes and a gaping jaw. He shook himself a bit, correcting his stare and gently grabbing her hand to shake; of course, the hand didn't fit perfectly, as he had misaligned it in his slightly drunken state. He made no effort to correct this.

"Christ, with that attitude, it's almost as if you weren't aware we're part of a military task force armed with billions and billions worth of hi-tech equipment and military training with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all threats to the SHELLS and beyond."

For a moment, he stared off into space with a blank, vacant stare, considering what he had just said at length. He blinked a few times before turning back to her.

"Honestly, I wasn't aware I ran my mouth when I drank. I've always been a solo drinker anyway. The name's Owen. Owen Bell. Pleasure to.... meet you, Evette."

He took another quick swig of his cider while talking to her; it was only a few more sips away from empty. He leered at the bottle, not particularly pleased with that fact.

VCR_CAT · September 19, 2016

Sarah Shephard

When the transport came to a stop, the entire vehicle jerked to a rest. Sarah's face had been plastered to the wall of the transport, a thin trail of drool tracing a path from the floor back to her slack jaw as she was forced awake. Someone was barking orders regarding their arrival as everyone else got up from their seats and gathered their things. When Sarah had first gotten the news that she had been reassigned to Shark Squad, she had burned quite a hole in her pocket buying rounds for everyone at the bar. Of course, that excitement had quickly vanished when she finally learned how long it was going to take to actually get to the carrier. The trip was over now, though, and now was the time to get moved in.

Sarah pushed herself from her seat and grabbed the two duffel bags that contained her personal belongings; everything else was going to be moved to the armory or the hanger. Stepping off the transport, Sarah took in a deep breath of the stale, dry air that now covered the planet, tainted with hints of oil and carbon from the carrier, mixed with the salt from the ocean.

"Your quarters will be a few decks below; your commanding officer will be the one to show you around," one of the other soldiers told Sarah, handing her a temporary security pass. "Any questions?"

"Yeah, who am I looking for?" Sarah asked, taking the security pass and slipping it into the breast-pocket of her jacket.

"He's the one over there with the glasses, I'm sure you'll recognize him."

Sarah glanced over and spotted one of Terra Firma's most decorated pilots; Drayden. Sarah wasted no time approaching him.

"You're my commanding officer?" Sarah asked, dropping one of her duffel bags to extend her hand to shake his. "I'm Sarah Shephard, and also a big fan! What are you doing all the way out here away from the front lines?!"

Super Chaos Sonic · September 25, 2016

After a long period of time checking on Raiju Kai (about ten times to be thorough), Akira finally the terminal near his Frame and went for a walk. If he didn't, he'd be tempted to stay there and calibrate more on his Frame and possibly decide to want to take it out of the Albatross and have it make its way towards the base. Unfortunately, that would DEFINITELY get him in hot water with 'Tross personnel and possibly TRAP itself. And right now...

Yeah...it took a while for them to actually started liking me... Akira thought, shaking his head with a smile. Wouldn't be one of my brightest ideas...

"Wow! I didn't think they had a bar onboard!"

The Frame pilot stopped suddenly, turning his head to the sounds a very loud and bubbly voice, seeing a young girl at what seemed to be a bar. Huh...a bar? That's new. he thought with a chuckle, before making his way over towards the bar. Akira could spot the owner of the very bubbly voice talking to another person, a young man with a pair of goggles on his forehead, with a box of spare parts it looked like.

Looks like he's a mechanic...always good to have those around. Akira thought with a nod, sitting down at the bar, before motioning for the barkeep. "Seven and Seven, if you don't mind." he said, watching the bartender getting his drink prepped.

"You don't look like a crew member, so I'm guessing you're a pilot like me... am I right? 'name's Evette. Yours?"

Akira was astonished by overhearing this from the young girl, Evette. She was a pilot? She looks pretty young...since when did TRAP start recruitin' kids? he thought, shaking his head. However...if she was a pilot...

"Excuse me..." Akira spoke up, seeing the bartender hand his Seven and Seven to him. He took a small sip from it, seeing the girl turning towards him. "You said your a Frame pilot? Would you mind telling me what Frame you pilot?" he asked with a smile, before chuckling. "I'm a pilot as well and I like to know what Frames I'll be happened to work with. I'm Akira...Jiyuu Akira...I pilot the SFS-71X-03 Raiju Kai."

Asriel Dreemurr · September 28, 2016

It was strange to think it wasn't even a month. Three weeks, four days, seven hours, and twenty-three minutes had passed, and to Johan von Drackenmoore it felt like an eternity. When they had lost Lauren, it had taken him two weeks to get back into the swing of things as it were. Those two weeks he hadn't slept more than an hour at a time, sick with worry that the unarguably most beloved member of the team was out there somewhere and they were stuck back in the base unable to do a thing. Still, he'd managed to bury that anxiety, even if he wasn't able to get over it. Now, though, Johan was a wreck and had been for every second since they'd lost Melissa. He'd been barely able to eat, but the worst part was the lost sleep. Every time he managed to get more than an hour of it he had nightmares, usually involving Melissa falling prey to some horrifying fate that he couldn't help her with. The logical part of his psyche told him that she was strong enough to take care of herself, hell she was strong enough to take care of the rest of the team if it came to it, but that didn't shut his emotions up. If there was any solace he could find in this, it was in the certainty he'd found that he did actually love the woman.

Still, Johan had managed to do his duty since getting out of solitary after he and Heinrich assaulted their superior officer. He even managed to maintain a deceptive amount of his usual straight-faced, soldierly decorum, though he and his brother had gotten up to significantly fewer high jinks with what remained of the team. They hadn't even pulled their switching places gag once in the entire time. Not for lack of his twin's suggestions of course, but that sort of thing did require that the both of them be in it. Of course that was just Heinrich being Heinrich. Forcing himself to stand out and be accounted for by everyone around them.

In any case, at that moment Johan was making his way towards the hangar. Their patrol duty in the Drachenrand was coming up, and at the very least he could handle preflight checks to keep his mind off of the worry for a little while. Not that he especially wanted to have the whole of his being laid bare to his brother. At the very least, they could even each other out. So it was that, wearing his flight suit and with his helmet under his left arm, Johan was marching down the corridor to the hangar and stopped as he came face to face with Gavin.

"Vizekommondant." He stated flatly, managing to keep his expression blank. He and Heinrich had made no secret about the fact that they blamed him for their leaving Melissa behind. Johan certainly knew that staying any longer than they had would have meant fighting off still more of the terran filth and even with such an impressive machine as the Drachenrand their odds at winning would not have been good. That didn't change the fact that they wished they could have tried.

Dad · October 12, 2016

The Dark Tide, Main Deck

" . . . which means I'll have to be more firm. I could refer to some ancient methods of torture, but I'm not that type of man. But everyone breaks," Admiral Yoshino said to Mrs. Black behind him, making his way over to the stairs. "Everyone. Go over to our room, I'll meet you shortly. I just have a bit of paperwork I need to get to."

The slit in her dress caused it to twirl as she turned her hips past Takeo, and had him begin to escort her up the stairs. "Don't keep me waiting," she demanded, her sultry voice teasing him as she ran a finger over his chest. Takeo kissed her hand and let her go, watching her walk away. Before he could make his way up the stairs, a guardsman rounded the corner at the top of the staircase, excusing himself and addressing Takeo.

"Sir!"

Takeo continued to walk upwards towards him. "What is it, son?"

"Sorry to disturb you sir. The transport has arrived, and we weren't sure if you were aware. Normally, you're present when--" the man went silent immediately as Takeo held up a hand.

"Transport? You're right, I wasn't aware. They've just made it to the hangar?" Takeo asked.

The guardsman nodded in compliance. "Yes, sir."

"Let's take a walk then."

He was busy cutting potatoes, slicing beef, and preparing a vegetable. His thoughts? Filet mignon, roasted red potatoes, and grilled asparagus. Finishing the potatoes, he seasoned them and placed them in the already prepared oven. He was about to go to work on the tenderloin, when he heard a pair of footsteps stop at the kitchen entrance.

"What is it?" he asked, not looking up from the food.

"Vice-Admiral," she said, stepping into the kitchen.

"I recognize that voice, Ms. Vega," he said as he set his knife down. Making his way to the sink, he washed his hands and dried them on a clean towel. "What can I do for you?" his usual stern face softening slightly, though lacking in any other expression.

"My C.O. asked me to assist with your uh--ehem, duties for the afternoon. Anything I can do to help?" Lauren asked, trying not to show her disinterest.

Zalwara sighed, checking on the potatoes in the oven. He closed the oven back and looked up at Lauren, then turned back to the plate. "Not much left to do. I'm going to bring the prisoner their dinner shortly. You can come along if you'd like."

Lauren carefully observed Zalwara in the kitchen for another twenty minutes as he finished the vegetables, seared and grilled the asparagus and finished the filet mignon in the oven. "All this for a prisoner?" she questioned, folding her arms. "If this is what you're serving prisoners, maybe I should switch sides," she joked.

Zalwara chuckled to himself. "I'm not as heartless as I seem. Here. You can bring it down," Zalwara said, covering the completed plate with a silver top. "I'm right behind you."

Entering the hangar, Takeo patiently walked over to Drayden, who was promptly greeted by a new arrival. Takeo's lip curled at the thought of another person aboard his ship, but he remained calm as he approached.

"Mr. Seidrich," Takeo boomed, his voice loud and commanding. "I wasn't aware of any new members of Shark Squadron arriving on my vessel today." Take stood with his arms behind his back, as he observed movement in the hangar. Casually, he lay his eyes upon the new guest. "Pardon me, and please excuse my behavior," he said, extending a hand to Sarah.

"Admiral Takeo Yoshino. I trust a room is readily available for you. Though, had I known we were having more guests, I could have at leased prepared an evening meal for you," he said with a smile. "But with Drayden as your leader, I can assume you eat well. So, to whom and what do I owe the pleasure?" Takeo asked.

VCR_CAT · October 20, 2016

Sarah Shephard

"Mr. Seidrich," A voice boomed. Sarah looked over to see a rather decorated individual walking over. "I wasn't aware of any new members of Shark Squadron arriving on my vessel today." The officer folded his arms behind his back and looked over at Sarah. "Pardon me, and please excuse my behavior," he said, extending a hand to Sarah.

"Ah, it's no problem, I just got here," Sarah replied, shaking his hand with one and rubbing the back of her head with the other.

"Admiral Takeo Yoshino. I trust a room is readily available for you. Though, had I known we were having more guests, I could have at leased prepared an evening meal for you," he said with a smile. "But with Drayden as your leader, I can assume you eat well. So, to whom and what do I owe the pleasure?" Takeo asked.

"I'm Sarah Shephard, I was lead reconnaissance in the 101st." Sarah replied, with a hint of pride in her voice. "My frame's pretty fast and I'm pretty top at piloting it if I do say so myself; but I think my commander was too afraid to get his 'prized SF pilot' scratched to put me in any real action."

Lifts began moving around the deck as The Blue Devil, still secured in its straps and chains, was being loaded off the transport.

"Ah, there it is, The Blue Devil," Sarah commented, pointing out the goat-legged armored interceptor. "It's a bit of a custom job; they tried to make an interceptor work with more armor and bigger weapons, but it became a little too expensive so they just made this one. It's a real beaut, though!"

a coffee · October 20, 2016

"Remember, Carson. This assignment is a privilege, not a right. The courts blessed you with another chance, don't waste it. I'm sure some of those guards wouldnt mind watching you work out in the boneyard again." the man at her side had a chuckle at his own crude comment as they walked down a long, presumably isolated hallway aboard the Albatross, "and I can tell you for damn sure that there are plenty of people in my line of work who would see to it that you rot before becoming a clerk at a grocery store, let alone as a part of a unit with specialized clearances. Myself included. So believe me when I say if you even breathe wrong on this base I will haul your pretty little ass back to jail. Understand me?"

Shayne sucked the back of her teeth in response; what an absolute pig this man was, and yet she was stuck with him. That's what happens when you do hard time, you're met with the worst kinds of people. Nobody cares about the feelings or personal security of a maximum security prisoner, so her "pretty little ass" seemed like more of a compliment than anything else; she'd heard much worse before.

"It seems we're off to a bad start, Ms. Carson." The man now walked in front of her path, stopping her dead in the tracks. He grabbed her chin with some force and made her face to look into his eyes, "I may not be able to cart you off for disrespecting me, but if you make enemies around here it won't be long before I can find a way. So I'll ask again. Do. I. Make. My. Self. Clear?" he increased the pressure of his grip on her jaw, ensuring that she was still staring directly into his eyes.

"Loud and clear, sir. I'll be on my best behavior." Shayne forced the words out between forcefully gritted teeth. He smiled a crooked, jagged smile in return and shoved her face to the side, releasing his grip and pointing down the hallway, instructing her to continue moving forward into the meat of the ship.

"Now that's a good girl, Ms. Carson. Was that so hard?" they arrived at what appeared to be some kind of bar; and stopped at the doorway, "This is my stop, Ms. Carson; for now, you are free to go. But I'll have my eyes on you." her handler quickly walked back down the hallway, chest raised proudly. Were she not afraid of "being carted off" by him, she would have spat on the backs of his shoes on his way out, that son of a- Shayne took a deep breath in through her nostrils; she would have to pick her battles with that one, and while he got a little too comfortable with grabbing her by the face, it could always be worse.

Instead of making a scene involving her handler, Shayne decided to make her way towards the bar; a gentle sway to her hips moving the fabric of her pants as she walked; it might have been a forceful enlistment, but this almost felt like freedom. She practically salivated as she approached the bar; she couldn't think of the last time she had a cold, hard, drink. Shayne took a seat a stool or two down from the two already at the bar, having a conversation; Shayne was never much of a conversation starter and she had a very specific goal on her mind.

"Bartender. Bourbon. 2 rocks, and be a little generous with the pour, if you would." she wasn't exactly sure if there was a price for this kind of thing on the ship, but some of her assets had been unfrozen after she was assigned what would be considered a "general population job", even if that couldn't be further from the truth. She pulled a few bills from her pocket; nothing big, but surely enough to cover the cost of a glass with rocks. Shayne set it on the table to meet the arrival of her glass, and whether or not the barkeep took it or not was from her concern; she immediately swirled the liquor and took a small mouthful of the now ice cold liquor. A lovely hint of smoke hit the back of her throat, accompanied by a familiar burning sensation that she missed dearly. It felt good to be free...ish.

BANZAI!!!! · October 23, 2016

"Christ, with that attitude, it's almost as if you weren't aware we're part of a military task force armed with billions and billions worth of hi-tech equipment and military training with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all threats to the SHELLS and beyond."

Evette looked at own blankly for a moment, apparently processing his statement while he lamely shook her hand. As he finished, her blank stare contorted into a childish pout, and she rather quickly withdrew her hand. So much for an introduction. She was about to speak but was interrupted when Owen attempted to salvage things. How cute.

"Honestly, I wasn't aware I ran my mouth when I drank. I've always been a solo drinker anyway. The name's Owen. Owen Bell. Pleasure to.... meet you, Evette."

She responded with a "Hmph" and an exaggerated flip of her hair. "You sure know how to endear yourself to a lady, Mr. Bell." Her tone was noticeably sarcastic. If this guy wanted the sass, he'd get the sass.

"You said you're a Frame pilot? Would you mind telling me what Frame you pilot?"

It was only now that she noticed there was a third person with them, another guy. One with actual manners it seemed. And he had such pretty blue eyes!

"I'm a pilot as well and I like to know what Frames I'll be happened to work with. I'm Akira...Jiyuu Akira...I pilot the SFS-71X-03 Raiju Kai."

"Well, Jiyuu, its nice to meet you!" She grabbed his hand with both of hers and shook it eagerly, partially in an attempt to give this Owen guy a proper example. "I'm Evette-uhh, Ensign Evette Fontaine, at your service! My Frame's name's Cabernet, like the wine, you know? But I uhh... I don't remember the model number." She giggled a bit. "Too many letters and numbers that I won't be using on the comms anyway. Its the pink one in the hangar, if you were curious." Remembering she was at the bar to get a drink, she turned around for a moment and addressed the bartender. "Uhh, a long island iced tea please, thanks!" Turning back around, she continued, this time addressing Owen in a voice that was both playful and slightly antagonistic. "What about you, Mr. Bell? Which robot's yours?

Meanwhile, another woman had taken a seat a few stools down. She didn't seem to be paying much attention to the three of them, but Evette, who despite her apparent bubbly-ness was instinctively situationally aware at all times, had noticed her come in and get herself a drink. She too was unfamiliar to her, and like her other two companions didn't seem to be a regular crewmember on the Albatross. Without looking at it, she snatched up her glass almost as fast as the bartender placed it down in front of her, and took a sip. Then she called over to the newcomer.

"Hey! why don't you come sit with us? You're a pilot too, aren't you?"

---

"Vizekommondant."

Gavin looked up from his paperwork a moment and recognized one of the Von Drackenmoore twins addressing him. After months of living with them on base, he was at last able tell the brothers apart with near-perfect accuracy. The mellow, flat manner in which he spoke indicated that this was, more than likely, Johan. Gavin wasn't one to pick favorites, but out of the two of them it was Johan whom he had the least difficulty communicating with, and so by default he got on better with him than he did with his much more boisterous brother. With Heinrich, who in many, many ways resembled Gavin himself when he was a younger man, there was always trouble afoot, and while Johan was often in on his brother's shenanigans, his more quiet, contemplative personality meant that he was far more likely to set limits for himself.

Of late though, it seemed that Johan had been the more troublesome of the two. Not because he'd been acting out, but rather the emotional toll that TRAP's last operation had taken on him had made him rather sullen. Gavin had gotten to know the listless look on Johan's face very well in recent weeks. Out of everyone under his command, it was no surprise that Johan was taking Melissa's loss the hardest. The combination of survivor's guilt, love, and no doubt at least some lingering disdain for the way Gavin had handled their evacuation from the battle zone must surely have been weighing heavily on him. From an operational standpoint, it greatly affected the Drachenrand's ability to perform; a problem made worse by that fact that the black Synchro Frame was one of the only four operational machines currently on base. More importantly (At least to Gavin) though, was Johan's morale. The well being of his men came first, and the fact that there was little if anything Gavin could do for the young man ate at him.

"There's no need for the formalities Jo. I'm not even on duty right now." Gavin gestured to the suit he was wearing, as opposed to his uniform. "And hey, before you and Heinrich go on patrol, you might as well stick around a few minutes. The 'Tross is coming in and you guys should meet the new people with me and the lieutenant commander while you've got the chance to." He paused a moment. "Speaking of, you haven't seen Lieutenant Commander Schwarzchild, have you?"

---

The smell of the ocean coming from outside mixed with that of machine oil and ozone to produce a rather distinctive, though not entirely unpleasant, aroma in the Dark Tide's aft hangar bay. Inside it were what must have been close to two hundred combat frames, all standing or laying motionless in place as a small army of technicians combed over them, taking some apart, putting others together, or simply doing diagnostic work. Were it not for the open door and the massive amount of space in the bay, the noise from all of the machines would surely have been deafening, but as it was one could get away with only minor irritation.

Drayden sat slightly uncomfortably on the detached leg of a Myrmidon that was close to the hangar bay doors, watching the horizon for the next transport plane to make a landing on the tarmac outside. The rest of the frame was suspended in a stall near him, and was having most of its hip joint replaced by the looks of it. Probably the result of a rookie pilot making a bad landing and overtaxing the poor machine's shock absorbers. It was very common to see this type of damage (Hell, Drayden himself had done the same to his own Myrmidon once or twice) but was, unfortunately, a rather involved process to repair correctly. On the bright side, the frame's left leg gave him a good enough perch to sit on and avoid people while he waited.

Before too long, the airplane he'd been waiting for landed and rolled its way into the hangar. Though it was facing away from him, Drayden could still see the edges of its rear cargo bay doors as they opened. After watching for a brief moment he hopped down of the Myrmidon's leg and made his way over.

Just as Drayden was about to make it all the way to the rear of the cargo jet, he heard a very familiar voice calling him.

"Mr. Seidrich!"

It was Admiral Takeo Yoshino himself, no doubt come from on high to introduce himself to his newest asset before Drayden had a chance to get ahold of her. He was accompanied by one of his men, no doubt a little to intimidated to speak, but obviously trying to look his best in the company of two Terra Firma VIPs.

"I wasn't aware of any new members of Shark Squadron arriving on my vessel today."

Drayden, of course, didn't miss a beat. "Neither was I until this morning, Sir. Didn't you get the memo?" There was no memo, as Shark Squad's Independent status meant the orders had been given to Drayden himself, but pretending to have (or jokingly mentioning, whichever way Takeo took it) sent the Admiral information meant that at the very least whatever problem Takeo had would be left aside for the moment. He didn't want any problems in front of his new subordinate, whom both men recognized making her way out of the aircraft and over toward them. Takeo was the first to speak to her.

"Pardon me, and please excuse my behavior," He offered the new arrival a hand shake and she accepted. Drayden, meanwhile, took a moment to size up the new pilot. She was young, and judging by her demeanor inexperienced, but her assignment to his unit was surely no accident. She must therefore be rather talented.

"Ah, it's no problem, I just got here,"

"Admiral Takeo Yoshino. I trust a room is readily available for you. Though, had I known we were having more guests, I could have at leased prepared an evening meal for you, but with Drayden as your leader, I can assume you eat well. So, to whom and what do I owe the pleasure?" Smarmy and polite as ever. Takeo too was looking to keep up appearances it seemed, at least until he'd finished sizing the new girl up.

"I'm Sarah Shephard, I was lead reconnaissance in the 101st. My frame's pretty fast and I'm pretty top at piloting it if I do say so myself; but I think my commander was too afraid to get his 'prized SF pilot' scratched to put me in any real action." That response all but confirmed to Drayden that his new subordinate was a rookie. All three of them turned to watch as her SF was unloaded off of the transport, its cobalt paint reflecting the sunlight coming in through the hangar doors. "Ah, there it is, The Blue Devil," Sarah commented. "It's a bit of a custom job; they tried to make an interceptor work with more armor and bigger weapons, but it became a little too expensive so they just made this one. It's a real beaut, though!"

It was now that Drayden decided he should speak, and he went about it with his usual grace and subtlety, or lack thereof. "That's one way of putting it I guess. At least its not pink." He then turned to Takeo. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure? I gather you didn't come down here just to ogle my new Synchro Frame, SIr. After all you're such a busy man." Were it anyone else taking such a disrespectful tone with the Admiral, they would certainly have been punished. Thankfully, the combination of Drayden's imposing presence, as well as his value as a pilot, allowed him to get away with it, and he reveled in the independance his status as Terra Firma's ace brought him. And besides, this would serve as an excellent first impression for Miss Shephard. Shark Squad bowed to no one, save for those in high command from whom they took direct orders.

---

The Albatross was a bit farther away than Leo had assumed it was, but he still managed to fly his frame up alongside the massive airplane's bridge in little time. Preferring the flashiness of a flyby to using his radio, Leo signaled his presence to those on the bridge by waving the Canis's free hand at them.

Among the onlookers was Captain Thomas Renner: TRAP's overall commander and liaison with SAF high command. He tapped his cane on the floor absentmindedly as he watched Leo align his flight path with that of the Albatross, then raised it up gently in acknowledgement after he saw the SF wave. Leo, in turn, gave a thumbs up, then rolled his machine out of view to continue monitoring the Albatross's local airspace. Renner let out a laugh.

"Looks like Decker's gotta teach the kid better manners." Was the response of the Albatross's pilot, who was busy correcting his flight path in order to stay safely clear of the Canis.

"Kids will be kids. Let him have his fun while he can. Besides, its good to see that he can handle that machine. I was worried Enisgn Vega might not be able to handle piloting it."

"Making hand signs and flying in combat are different though, Sir."

"True enough, but progress is progress." Renner began to make his way toward the door. "Keep her on course for landing, we should be there soon, right?"

"Yes sir. about 20 minutes."

"Just enough time to get ready."

---

Lauren and Zalwara made their way down to the Dark Tide's brig in an awkward silence. Lauren figured that Zalwara wasn't much for speaking, and she herself was too focused on holding the plate of food steady. Still, the silence was rather uncomfortable. If this was what the Vice-Admiral was like when he was at ease, Lauren wondered how cold he would act in combat. He was a far cry from both of her previous commanding officers, as well as Drayden, all three of whom seemed to relish in the art of speech, though for wildly differing reasons. In fact, Zalwara's silence brought to mind her younger brother, who was also usually quiet unless spoken to. She found such a comparison humorous, with Leo's shyness and small frame being nearly the polar opposite of Zalwara's sheer presence and composure, and yet she got a similar vibe from them both. This was at last enough to make Lauren feel comfortable, and as the two of them approached the entrance to the cell block she spoke.

"So, why are you letting me come along, anyway? You do know Drayden sent me up here just to bug you, right?" She paused a moment, a wave of apprehension coming over her as the man Zalwara worked for came to mind. Suddenly she realized that this entire turn of events may have been intentional, and so she felt compelled to ask the question as Zalwara opened the door to the prisoner's cell. "Was this the Admiral's idea perhaps?"

Before Zalwara could respond to her query, and indeed before Lauren even had time to think on the matter further, the sight of the prisoner banished all other thoughts from her mind. Her heart skipped a beat, and had she not caught herself she would surely have dropped the plate of food she was holding. In front of her was a familiar face that she had never expected to lay eyes on again, and one that she was secretly thankful was unable to see her.

"Melissa?!" She almost said the name aloud, but stopped herself. There she was, her former comrade and one of the close friends she'd left behind when she defected, sitting in front of her. A prisoner. Lauren stood still, shocked. She didn't dare speak for fear that Mel would recognize her voice, and for a solid few seconds she didn't move either, the food in her hands having been completely forgotten. At last, she placed it down wordlessly in the table, hoping desperately that Zalwara hadn't picked up on any of this.

Dad · October 23, 2016

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure? I gather you didn't come down here just to ogle my new Synchro Frame, SIr. After all you're a busy man."

Takeo tried his best not to laugh, but he was admittedly caught off guard at Drayden's famous wit. "Sharp. Funny. Its hard not to compliment you, Drayden," Takeo said with a chuckle. "As it happens, Mr. Seidrich, I was on my way to see to a formality. I was only just alerted by one of my men, and so I came to see what all the fuss was about. Only to of course learn that we have more guests. Not that I mind. But that Shark Squadron sure does like to leave me in the dark. I'd much prefer to be apart of all the fun." Takeo sounded like he meant those words, but it was always hard to tell if a snake was being protective, or was prepared to strike.

"Well. Sarah, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for such an abrupt departure, but as Drayden said, I'm a busy man. And Mr. Seidrich," Takeo said, shaking Drayden's hand. "Take good care of our guest."

Turning on his heel, Takeo marched out of the hangar and departed from Sarah and Drayden, making his way back to his private quarters. He was always punctual with his paperwork, and now he would have a bit more to document with the arrival of Sarah Shephard. "What is their command doing with all of these pilots aboard my ship?" Takeo thought to himself. He wasn't troubled, per say. Rather, Takeo was curious. And though curiosity had killed many a cat, it had never slain a snake. Takeo's lips curled into a smile. He was usually good about digging into these kinds of things. So he decided to ring up an old friend.

Melissa stirred slightly as the feint droning footsteps of someone else above disturbed her from her rest. She had drifted off, waiting for the evening meal. She could barely hear a whisper of their voices, unable to make out who the second person was. Because Zalwara had been earlier tasked to prepare her meal, Melissa determined that it was likely a nurse who was tagging along side him to check on her as a prisoner. Melissa sat upright as the footsteps drew closer, and eventually stopped several feet outside her cell.

The aroma of the food clouded Melissa's other senses, as she admittedly was very hungry. It was pleasant and fresh, and she couldn't wait to dig in. First, however, she had to thank him for the meal.

"I know you don't have to do this, but thank you," Melissa said, directing her comment at Zalwara.

"Well, I do have to comply with orders, Miss Juniper," Zalwara said, unlocking the door to her cell. "Here, you can bring that in to--Ms. Vega?" Zalwara said, as he turned around to face her. She had sat the tray of food down, a look of distress on her face. "Ms. Vega. You look like you've seen a ghost." Zalwara took the tray from the table, and entered Melissa's cell. Though the atmosphere had seemed to change drastically, as Melissa had now begun to stand up, a look of confusion on her face. It took Zalwara a moment, but he finally had begun to piece the situation together.

Zalwara sat the tray down on Melissa's bed, as she approached the cell. She tightly gripped the bars, as Zalwara stood with his back to the cell door, as he watched Melissa. "Then it's true," Zalwara started. "The Admiral said you left them. You defected from the enemy. You were one of theirs, weren't you?," he said turning to Lauren.

Tears slowly running down her face, Mel reached her hand through the bars of the cell, out of reach of Lauren. "It can't be," she said, her voice soft and solemn.

Zalwara exited the cell, and locked it behind him. His head was swimming with thoughts, as he watched Melissa's interaction with Lauren.

She gripped the bars on her cell tightly, unsure of what to think or feel. Her emotions were running high, and Melissa couldn't help but break down, taking to her knees as she wept. She struggled to even raise her head, tears pooling on the concrete floor of her cell. Finally, she found the courage to speak her name. "Lauren?" Melissa asked.

As he entered his quarters, Takeo was greeted by the sweet smell of perfume and strawberries. Lady Black was sprawled across his bed, a thin silk black shawl and nothing beneath it as she teasingly suckled upon a strawberry covered in chocolate. Takeo smiled, letting out an audible "hmph" as he removed his coat and placed it on the back of the big leather chair in his room, and loosened his cuffs. "What took you?" she asked, still holding a strawberry.

"Sorry dear," he said loosening his tie. "Looks like tonight will have to wait." Takeo took a seat in his chair, and began removing his shoes.

Lady Black raised just the edge of her shawl, revealing her legs and thighs. "Are you sure?" she purred.

Takeo peeked out of the corner of his eye. Sighing, he stood up, and pecked his wife on the forehead. "Yes, unfortunately. I had been preparing for tonight ever since that blasted weapon got destroyed. Only now, I've got more work to do," he said, massaging her shoulders. She held Takeo's hands, the tension in her shoulders melting away. "But hopefully I won't be long. If you haven't fallen asleep of boredom, maybe the evening's events will still fall into place," he whispered into Lady Black's ears.

Takeo returned to his chair, picking up a phone from beside his desk. He drew up some quick paper work, as he dialed Mike's number. "Mike sent us a few more of his Squadron. Coy old geezer. He's probably sipping Mai Tais while we work," Takeo said with a cheeky grin. He waited patiently for Mike to answer, excited when he finally heard his friend's voice. "Mike! Hey now, you've got some explaining to do. I jest, of course, but Shark Squadron just boarded again. A Miss Sarah Shephard. You got anything else headed my way?" Takeo asked, turning his chair to his desk.

While listening to Mike and waiting for his reply, Takeo flicked a silent switch on his desk, a panel on his wall beside the desk flipping and revealing several black and white monitors. They were displaying security footage of the Dark Tide, though nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. He turned his back to the monitors, filling out the appropriate paperwork for the new arrival.

Zalwara stepped past Lauren just briefly, peering around the brig. Patrol had not made its way to the brig just yet, so they had time. Zalwara observed the room, and urged Melissa to stand up to her feet. "Miss Juniper. Stand up straight. This area is monitored. If you make a scene, you could draw attention to yourself, or your ex-comrade."

Zalwara remained calm, assessing the situation at hand. There were two cameras in this area. The first was directly in the doorway above him. The other was on the opposite side of the brig, watching the other end. It would not have vision of Zalwara, only Lauren. Zalwara slid out of view of the camera, and picked a tiny blade from his pocket. He carefully made the smallest incision in the camera's visual wiring, just enough to knock it off line. He straightened his uniform, sliding the blade back into his pocket and resuming his composure. Melissa stood at last, and Zalwara approached Lauren.

He stood in her line of vision, just so that she could see both Zalwara, and Melissa. "I'm going to need you to explain this to me, Miss Vega," Zalwara said, careful to not move his head too much. "And do it quickly, before the patrol arrives."

Super Chaos Sonic · October 24, 2016

"Well, Jiyuu, its nice to meet you!"

Well, the two didn't even meet for a few seconds and Akira was already impressed that this young girl was already excited and happy about meeting him. "Likewise." he nodded, shaking the girl's hand back.

"I'm Evette-uhh, Ensign Evette Fontaine, at your service! My Frame's name's Cabernet, like the wine, you know? But I uhh... I don't remember the model number. Too many letters and numbers that I won't be using on the coms anyway. Its the pink one in the hangar, if you were curious.""

"Evette Fontaine..." Akira nodded, before hearing about the Frame's name: Cabernet. "Cabernet...Cabernet...oh!" he quickly snapped his fingers. "Your Frame is SFS-09-2/2R Cabernet. The High Speed Reconnaissance Frame..."

Ah now that was an interesting Frame that he had the pleasure and opportunity to look at and examine. A High Speed Reconnaissance Frame that came complete with a Sensor Suite, the laser based communications systems (the AMSComm), Compound Optics, plus a multi-modal plasma rifle. It was truly a great Frame that was constructed by SAF...

However, Akira was getting lost in thinking about the Frame designs. He shook his head a bit, before smiling. "Sorry, was thinking about the Frame again. Anyway, Cabernet is pretty impressive. Guess, based on your style of Frame, that you prefer to favor reconnaissance and stealth rather than fighting right on the front lines?" he asked, seeing the bartender bringing over his Seven and Seven, as he took a quick sip out of it.

VCR_CAT · November 3, 2016

Sarah Shephard

"That's one way of putting it I guess. At least its not pink." Seidrich chimed in. Sarah knew it was better to hold her tongue, but also knew that if this sort of thing became regular then there would be quite a bit of friction in the team. But no, now was not the time; she's a rookie in a new squad, a good first impression is what matters most right now. However, that's not to say that wasn't what went on between Sarah's new commanding officer and the admiral of the ship they were now on. I guess some degree of sass is permitted among the regulars, then? Sarah thought to herself as she stood there, quietly.

"Well. Sarah, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for such an abrupt departure, but as Drayden said, I'm a busy man. And Mr. Seidrich," Takeo said, shaking Drayden's hand.

Sarah snapped a quick salute. "The pleasure's all mine, sir! Just happy to have this opportunity!"

"Take good care of our guest." Takeo added to Drayden, before heading back to the ship's interior, leaving Drayden and Sarah on the deck.

"So, anything on the schedule for today? Orientation? Training? Briefing?" Sarah broke the silence, asking away eagerly.

Makο · November 5, 2016

Shіt.

Owen fυcked up.

He truly did have little idea of how he was around other people while drunk, since the bartender never bothered to approach him. Certainly didn't help that his new drinking hours were so far apart from when others tended to come around. However, things change, and with an influx of new faces, he had been caught totally off guard. By the time he had attempted to patch the situation up again, it was far too late. His motormouth made him look like a total tool; on self reflection, no one he'd ever personally hang out with.

So much... for first impressions.

He knew that getting friends would not be an easy task; never has been, unlikely he'd gain the charisma in the future for it to be simple either. But he certainly felt he wasn't one for immediately ruining first-contact like this. He knew the alcohol had done a number to his more practical sensibilities, but he was without excuse; first impressions are once and once only. His mind began to swirl with a mix of shame, embarrassment, and alcohol-mostly alcohol-as he stared at his empty bottle in silence.

"What about you, Mr. Bell? Which robot's yours?"

The question shook him out of his trance, as he frantically looked back up at Evette. Her voice clearly spelt animosity towards him, beneath the facade of sparkly happiness. That was the moment he knew he had failed. However, rather than focusing on her, he founds his thoughts drifting to her question. Which frame was his...? Since the battle, his frame had been declared unsalvageable, with what could be recovered stripped off and re-purposed. As such, he had been notified soon after that he had a replacement frame; whether it was temporary or not, he didn't know. But through the alcoholic haze, he certainly did remember his initial test-ride with it, to calibrate AMS and such.

It felt... cold, and foreign. No recognizable smells, no custom settings for maximum efficiency, no dumb-AI to help with targeting. His first few steps had him tripping over his own two feet, as though he had never ridden a synchro frame before. He felt small, like a fresh pilot out of training, being forced to use a machine so much greater than him that he hardly knew how to handle it; hardly an extension of himself. The thought of having to use that soulless, by-the-books machine made his stomach drop; would he become a burden to his allies with it? His combat efficiency rating had dropped below the "above-average" rating he enjoyed in Nakahi. How would he manage?

"SFS...126, I think."

He barely managed to remember the designated title; he had given it no custom name yet, as he felt like waiting for inspiration to hit him. But a week after he was prompted to choose, nothing came. He found himself calling it "one-two-six" when forced to refer to it. He felt his vision begin to blur, as the alcohol kicked in to full effect. The amount of thinking he had been doing gave him no favors.

"Please... pardon me. I-I need to go wash myself up for a moment. Excuse me."

He hastily pushed his chair back and fled into the nearby washroom. Flinging the faucet on, he braced as his hands splashed an entire handful of cold water onto his face. Some had gotten up his nose, forcing him to cough and gag for a moment. After a quick wipe-down with the towel in hand, he gazed at himself in the mirror. Though alcohol lingered, he had gained enough cognition temporarily to recognize his face was...

Fairly ok, all things considered. Certainly, he had expected a more visible sign of his inner turmoil and lack of alcohol tolerance, but he appeared to be alright. At least, he was perfectly capable of hiding his emotions on the outside, for now. With a prayer that his appearance wasn't just then result of beer goggles, he exited the washroom, leaning back against the closed door with a sigh, turning back towards his comrades.

Asriel Dreemurr · November 7, 2016

"There's no need for the formalities, Jo. I'm not even on duty right now." That alone was enough to make the more subdued of the Drackenmoore twins consider doing something to get another stint in solitary, but he kept himself controlled for now. The idea that Decker was taking it easy when Lauren and Melissa were still out there somewhere ate at him. It was even worse, since he knew that he and his brother wouldn't be able to go out and try to find them on their own. "And hey, before you and Heinrich go on patrol, you might as well stick around a few minutes. The 'Tross is coming in and you guys should meet the new people with me and the lieutenant commander... Speaking of, you haven't seen Lieutenant Commander Scharzchild, have you?" Well, that was something worth tolerating being around Gavin. New pilots. Not that it really mattered much.

"Heinrich's dragging his ass anyways, so I can't exactly leave on patrol until he gets here." Not that Johan minded. The longer they could stay apart before getting in the Drachenrand the better, as far as he was concerned. He hadn't told anyone, but it was getting harder for him to differentiate himself from his brother when connected to the Twin AMS. As much as he knew he needed to use the machine, and stay familiar with running it, if he wanted to save Melissa... well it wasn't something he enjoyed, and he knew Heinrich felt the same about it. In any case, he made his way over towards the recently retrofitted Drachenrand to begin checking its systems in preparation for launch. "Oh, and I'm reasonably sure der Kommondant is in her office. Not that she's left it for the past few days." He continued on his way towards the machine, but stopped when something more to say came to mind. "Gavin... we need to get Melissa back."

---

"Kommondaaaaaaaant!" A voice, not entirely unlike Johan's rang out down the hall as the other of the twins, currently wearing his flight suit only up to his waist while the upper portion of it hung down behind him with its sleeves tied like a belt around him, ran up the hall which Adelheid was taking towards the hangar. Of course he had an undershirt on, he wasn't so lacking in decorum that he'd run around the base half naked...at least until he got a few drinks in him. Though judging from his overly cheerful smile and the blush on his face, maybe he already had. "There you are!" Heinrich exclaimed as he slowed to match his commander's pace. "I've been tryin' to find you and...are you wearing makeup?" Whatever the pilot had been about to say was lost as he seemed to notice it, cocking his head to his side. In just a few moments the look of confusion on his face was replaced with understanding. She'd been getting about as much sleep as Johan, maybe even less, since their last sortie. He couldn't exactly think of anything to say right now, and in fact he'd forgotten about why he'd been looking for her.

Not that the reason wasn't right where it could be seen. Sitting inside of his up-turned helmet, currently clutched in both hands in front of his stomach, was a box just about the right size to contain an as-of-yet unopened model kit of a combat frame. In the event that Adelheid decided to take a closer look, she would probably notice it was one of the old CFS-021 Long-Arm frame. It even advertised that it included parts to give it "realistic battle damage" if the builder so desired.

---

Micheal Wittman was not, in fact, sipping Mai Tais at work. At present he was drinking a very much needed mug of steaming herbal tea while in one of Terra Firma's mobile command structures (read: an armored box on tank treads) less than a mile from the front lines in France. Even through the armor plating and the raging storm outside, which had turned the churned ground along the front into a mire deep enough to swallow a combat frame up to its knees, the sound of combat could be heard raging not far away. The old commander had been transferred into the force along the front lines by someone in High Command to serve as an advisor to the existing command staff there. Even though the admirals commanding the forces on the ground there outranked him, they were all younger than him and had enough respect for the man who had once been the very face of Terra Firma to shut up and listen when he had a suggestion. With the present state of affairs he wasn't actually certain if he was making a difference on the front, but he was considering changing that when the phone in his broom closet of an office rang. The moment he picked it up, a familiar voice made him smile.

"Mike! Hey now, you've got some explaining to do. I jest, of course, but Shark Squadron just boarded again. A miss Sarah Shephard." Of course he recognized the name, he was the one who'd recommended her for deployment with Shark Squadron. "You got anything else headed my way?" The younger of the two old men let out a laugh at that, both at his friend's means of asking and at the joke he'd pulled on him.

"No, I don't think I have any pilots that I can spare to send you soon." He chuckled, returning his mind briefly to the battlefield. "Not that Sarah was the best fit for my unit anyways. Call it a hunch, but I think she'll do better under Drayden than she did behind enemy lines with me." The call was briefly filled with the sound of an explosion as an artillery shell went off somewhere close to the mobile command structure, and Mike grimaced as he remembered exactly how immobile the thing was. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this little vacation of mine to the front lines of our battle in France, would you? Not that I mind having a place to eat my breakfast apart from my cockpit, but this isn't exactly what I'm good at."

a coffee · November 11, 2016

Waves of euphoria had come over her person as the bourbon coursed slowly through her body. If she was being honest, it had taken her by surprise just a bit. Whatever the barkeep had served her, it was strong; she could feel it in the body of liquor, and as it passed through her system, heat had forced its way up her stomach and into her bloodstream, almost instantly. Granted, she was far from a lightweight, so becoming intoxicated in an unfamiliar place was the least of her concerns, but it had been a while since she enjoyed a cold glass; she had forgotten what it felt like.

Speaking of someone forgetting what it felt like, Shayne could not help but notice that Owen was looking a bit washed, leaning up against the bathroom door the way he was. Shayne's eyebrow quirked up, as she took another sip from her glass. She was about to open her mouth and say something to the boy when she heard another voice call over to her. How strange. Shayne looked over towards the source of the voice to find a dainty little thing cooing at her to come join her conversation. She couldn't really imagine why the girl had such an interest in talking to her; after all, they both seem to be occupied with a drink, but she decided it rude to ignore the invitation.

Shayne wordlessly stood up from her stool and walked towards Akira and Evette, glass in hand, deciding to stand behind and in between the space that separated the two, rather than choosing to sit on either side of one of them.

"A pilot? Of sorts, yeah... I was brought in on a re- " Shayne stopped herself; the thought crossed her mind that perhaps not everyone here knew she was a maximum security criminal, and first impressions might not be the best place to start spilling those beans. Thoughts of her handler came to mind. "A trial for the unit. It was impressed upon me that new manpower is required." her deep, but womanly voice might have shaken ever so slightly; she was not a natural liar, but it would take some serious concentration to really pick up that she was not being 100% truthful with the two strangers. She took a sip of her glass, looking over towards Owen again, gesturing him over slightly with her glass. It wasn't a large gesture, she wasn't really that type of person, but if he was looking at her, he would get the point.

"My machine should already be here. Call it the risastór.... anyway, name's Shayne. Don't make yourselves strangers. I only bite 25% of the time." Shayne playfully squeezed her glass tightly, bringing out the definition in her arms, which she had an honestly impressive amount of. She wasn't butch, but it was obvious that the work had been put in through a good amount of heavy lifting.

"So what are you guys in for?" Whoops. Some prison slang doesn't fade so easily.

Maeriberii Haan · November 11, 2016

"Kommondaaaaaaaant!"

A voice called to her from behind as Adelheid made her way to the hangar in preparation for the arrival of the new addition to her team. Johan? She wondered. She hadn't talked with him for weeks, not after what happened. Ah, she's such a bad leader if she's distancing herself from her own team like this. Nevertheless, she put up a smile as the source of the voice approached her...revealing that it was Heinrich. She snickered a bit inside. She had worked for quite a while to differentiate the two's voices for a long while, but now she just forgot about that skill.

"What is it, Heinrich?"

He looked awfully happy. What happened? Did he get himself drunk and now he's running around the base wearing only an undershirt? That would've called for some disciplining, but Adelheid was far from being in the mood to do it or to tell Gavin about it.

"There you are!" He exclaimed, slowing his pace to match hers. "I've been tryin' to find you and...are you wearing makeup?"

"It's not. Must just be your imagination." That was a weak denial if she ever heard of one. No way would Heinrich buy it, but admitting it openly would also feel like admitting defeat. "You're coming to see the new recruits too? Wouldn't it be odd for you to dress like that for this occasion?"

And then, she noticed the box that was being clutched by him. Her eyes were trained to recognize it just from a glance. A model kit box that was still fresh, and...was it the Long Arms? Ah, she missed that one from her collection. Not that she was able to actually tend to them lately or to buy more of them, of course. Though, what was important was how nice it definitely was to see how someone finally shared one of her hobbies here.

"You're starting to collect model kits too, Heinrich? That one is pretty nice, it's easy to assemble but with the additions included in it, you can go further and make interesting dioramas featuring it with more ease. If you need to, I can show you how to paint these sometimes."

It was nice to have some distraction in a time like this. Perhaps stressing herself too much over this wouldn't do her good. Although, before that, at the very least she should perhaps talk to Johan. She didn't want to see what happened last time to be repeated, and it was unforgivable for her to not be there when her own team members needed it the most, either. Being a hermit really wouldn't solve anything.

Dad · November 13, 2016

Admiral's Quarters

"Not that Sarah was the best fit for my unit anyways. Call it a hunch, but I think she'll do better under Drayden than she did behind enemy lines with me."

There was an explosion after Mike's words, which took Takeo briefly by surprise. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this little vacation of mine to the front lines of our battle in France, would you? Not that I mind having a place to eat my breakfast apart from my cockpit, but this isn't exactly what I'm good at."

Takeo raised a concerned eyebrow. Why was Mike in France? "Afraid not. Must be a call from the top down. Though I can't say I'm surprised. They could always use your experience and tactical expertise. There's really no telling how many battles may have been lost without you." Despite his cold heart, Takeo did have a genuine concern for the men he associated himself with. They weren't just fellow brothers at arms. They were family. And family was everything. "Do keep your head down, Mike. I'm already planning a big dinner in your honor when we see each other again. You'd better not miss it."

The Brig

Melissa wiped her eyes, her sorrow turning into confusion and a bit of rage. "What happened, Lauren?" she questioned aloud, biting her lip. "I . . .don't understand. I saw it. With my own eyes. I saw you go down."

Melissa's mind flashed back to the moment she and the Saviour had failed. When she had let down her best friend, her team, and herself.

"I watched you die." Melissa's voice was rising, as she grew more emotional.

"Ms. Juniper. Calm yours--"

"I mourned for you!" Melissa belted out.

"Melissa!" Zalwara said, approaching the cell bars. "I understand that you have some. . . .history with Ms. Vega. But right now, you're putting all of us in danger. I need you to regain your composure. Right now."

Melissa took a deep breath, frustrated and slightly frightened. She walked back over to her bed, passing over her plate and moving it aside as she sat, her face now in her hands. "I can't believe this," she mumbled, noticeably shaken by all of this.

Makο · December 24, 2016

His mind was hardly what one would consider to be cleared, but the splash did help him regain some of his senses. The night wasn't over yet, and he had only ruined his impression towards Evette and no one else; though it was likely damaged. All he would have to do is recover from the situation. Perhaps distancing himself from Evette? He had the feeling she wouldn't let go what he said so easily, so staying within her radius might result in him being made more a fool than he could possibly make himself. And what of the others?

Peering up from his leaning-back position, his heart skipped a beat for a moment. One of the others at the bar, a pleasant red-head, had made a gesture towards him. An inviting one, it would seem, with a subtle flick of her glass. Owen stared back blankly for a moment, his own stupor thankfully concealed as her attention was drawn towards Evette. Mind racing from the alcohol, thoughts poured over his mind at thousands per millisecond; was he being called over just now, by her? Invited back to the conversation? In his drunken mind, had he just misinterpreted a minor flick of the wrist as something more than it was? But she was looking at him as well, so that couldn't be the case... could it? Was she coming onto him? Isn't that unlikely? With his face beginning to flare red, he internally poured over a hundred different scenarios before stopping, cold turkey. He reached a certain level of clarity in the moment, though only a second or so had passed, and a sole important realization had been achieved.

She had given him an in.

After a disastrous first impression, and excusing himself from the conversation, it would've been so easy to never fall back in, instead just walking away and back to his room in misery. But now, that was not the case. She had given him an in, so that even if no one else wanted anything else to do with him, she was still there, and she had called him over. And that was the greatest gift, greatest first impression he could have ever gotten from her. Regardless of any other thoughts his drunken mind had conjured during the flurry previously, it would be criminal of him to not at least try and be a friend with her. He collected himself the best he could in that moment, walking back over to the bar and returning to his seat, close enough to her as he felt was needed. And just in time to catch her name.

Shayne... that's a nice name.

Peering over to her as she spoke, he gave a subtle but noticeable bowing gesture, as a means of communicating thanks for bringing him back in; if she felt the need to communicate in such subtle ways, Owen was happy to oblige.

BANZAI!!!! · January 24, 2017

It took Lauren a moment, but at last clarity returned to her. Yes, this was really happening. Melissa was really here, taken prisoner. The numbness of the shock was rapidly replaced by dread as the thought of what her friend must have already been through filled her mind. Lauren knew full well what Terra Firma's soldiers were like, especially when it came to SAF prisoners. At least she could take comfort in the fact that Mel didn't look too worse for wear, all things considered, and Zalwara had clearly been taking care of her. Things had calmed now. Melissa was silent, and Zalwara looked at Lauren expectantly, waiting for her, with a bit of a desperate look on his face, she noticed, to clarify the situation. She glanced up at the security camera in the corner of the room. The pit in her stomach got worse.

"Those are wired for sound. Guards might be on their way."

The reminder that they were being recorded got her thoughts racing once more. Anything else she said aloud from now on could spell doom for either herself, or worse, Melissa. She had to do something. Lauren gulped, then did her best to fake a laugh and sound as playful as possible, all the while positioning herself so that her face was invisible to the camera hanging from the corner of the ceiling.

"Hehe, Vice-Admiral Adachi.... I have no idea what she's going on about. There must be a mistake..." That was it. Just play around for long enough. "After all... you should know me well enough by now..." Lauren took a few steps forward, giving Zalwara a wry smile and internally praying with all her might that Melissa would stay quiet long enough for this crazy idea to work. She could hear the faint sounds of footsteps from down the hall. The guards were coming.

"But... in case you don't... I think we should get a little better aquainted." She accentuated this last sentence with extra breath, adopting a tone that, until now, she had kept reserved for those precious few with whom she had been closest. Another couple of steps forward, and her lips were on his, her weight leaning the both of them back against the wall next to the doorway, in full view of anyone who happened to be coming down the hall in their direction.

The footsteps stopped, and as Lauren wrapped her arms around the back of Zalwara's head she heard them moving again in the opposite direction, along with a few muttered words that she could just barely make out.

"No wonder he didn't go after Miss Black."

"Heh, lucky bastard. Lets give the Vice-Admiral a little privacy. Cut the camera feed on your way out. He'll thank us later."

Thank goodness. Not only did it seem to be that no one had heard Melissa's outburst, but Lauren's gamble had also gotten the three of them a crucial window of much needed privacy... at the probable cost of her shipboard reputation. But she could live with that. When she was sure they were gone, she pulled away from Zalwara and wiped her mouth. Her cheeks were flush and the words that came out of her mouth a bit pained.

"Forgive me for that. I... couldn't help myself." She phrased it differently than she would have, just in case the cameras hadn't been turned off yet, but Zalwara probably understood her meaning. Lauren took a deep breath to wait out the last few seconds before she was sure they were no longer being monitored. Then, her composure finally breaking down, she ran over to her friend's cell.

"Mel.... please tell me you're ok. If they've hurt you I.. I..." She didn't know what to say. What she could say.

---

"So, anything on the schedule for today? Orientation? Training? Briefing?"

"She's an eager one... Lovely." Drayden scowled for just a moment, then forcibly removed the look from his face before Sarah could see, replacing it with his usual sharp-toothed grin. "Liberty, miss Shepherd. Liberty is on the schedule. Shark Squad is off until 0800 tomorrow, as it turns out, probably timed to coincide with your arrival so that you could get settled in. You're free to go exploring, or if you like you can tag along with me. I'm sure we'll bump into your wingman in due time. She's rather... busy today, and couldn't make it down to the flight deck with me. " Drayden started walking. "Well, might as well tell me about yourself."

---

"Gavin... we need to get Melissa back."

The reminder of TRAP's most recent failure brought a pained look to Gavin's face. He didn't like thinking about it any more than Johan did, and he was sure the rest of the unit was in similar spirits. He sighed. There wasn't much use in hiding his own feelings at this point, and so at last after so many weeks the veneer of the confident commander melted away from Gavin Decker.

"I know." He sat down, leaning himself against the hallway wall and motioning for Johan to join him if he so desired. "Johan I just... I don't know what I can do for you guys. Every time we go out there the odds are stacked way against us, and no matter what I do it just doesn't seem like we can come out on the wining end lately. I know you and your brother must hate me for pulling you out of there the other week. I know if it were me in your shoes I would. And you're allowed to, but... if I hadn't, we'd be grieving over four friends instead of just two. I know that with one hundred percent certainty." He inhaled deeply, then continued. "Look, and I'm saying this not as your superior officer, but as one man to another man. I'm gonna do everything in my power to find her, you have my word. But, to do that I need you and your brother to have my back. You don't have to like me, or even have respect for me or what I've done. But when the time comes, and believe me Johan its going to come one way or another, I need you two to be able to stand there with me, and the Lieutenant Commander, and the Kid, and these new guys, and whoever else, and face what comes at us. We need to be a team, and if we can do that..." he paused, choosing his words carefully. "Well, I'm not going to promise anything, but if I've learned anything from being a pilot its that things have a way of coming together when you're prepared to face them."

Gavin laughed at himself, realizing now that he was rambling. "Sorry, sometimes I don't know when to shut up. I just had to speak my mind, I guess."

---

"My machine should already be here. Call it the risastór.... anyway, name's Shayne. Don't make yourselves strangers. I only bite 25% of the time."

Evette paused a moment, mulling the unfamiliar word around in her head, then forgetting about it and focussing on the new girl's name instead. "Pleasure to meet you! Evette's the name, but you probably heard that already." She spun around on her bar stool, seeing Owen make his way back to them and sit down as she came around. "Feeling a bit better, Mister Bell?" She asked, giving Owen a wink. Hopefully he learned his lesson, and besides, he didn't seem like a bad guy. Might as well soften up on the poor boy for a little. She finished by addressing the whole lot of them. "Soooo.... how long have you guys been with SAF, anyway? Ever flown before?"

Dad · January 24, 2017

Zalwara read the situation as best he could. Melissa was frantic, but at least she had quieted down. But there were still guards approaching. He grew tense, and there was no sign of a way out.

"Hehe, Vice-Admiral Adachi.... I have no idea what she's going on about. There must be a mistake..."

What? Of course she knew what he was talking about. But Zalwara had to know the truth. "Ms. Vega, I--"

"After all... you should know me well enough by now..." Lauren took a few steps forward, giving Zalwara a wry smile.

What was she doing? This was no time for jokes or games. The sound of footsteps closed in. The patrol was near! What was he supposed to do!?

"But... in case you don't... I think we should get a little better acquainted."

Oh, great. Now she wanted to discuss her personal life and her past!? This was not the ti--oh. Ooooh! Zalwara's mind went blank as Lauren suddenly fell upon him, their backs against the wall. The guards noted this very unique distraction as an opportunity to give the Vice Admiral some privacy. Lauren was clever, much to Zalwara's surprise.

When they separated, Zalwara took a moment to regain his composure, his face flushing red as he straightened his uniform. "Well--ehem. Well-well played, Ms. Vega." Zalwara could make out an embarrassed sigh from Melissa in her cell.

"Mel.... please tell me you're ok. If they've hurt you I.. I..." She didn't know what to say. What she could say.

"I'm fine," she said, carefully making her way back over to her bed, and flopping down. "But I'm still in disbelief." Melissa rubbed her forehead slowly, as she waited. "Well? Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on?"

Zalwara cleared his throat. "Yes. I believe, now, Ms. Vega, an explanation is long overdue."

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Synchro Frame: Identity [IC/PG-16+]

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