Episode 16 - Repercussions [TE]

[Cardi Doorl]

- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

"But I'm alive," said Gilliarme, "So I get to fight another day. Sometimes I wonder if it's a curse in disguise..."

Sam closed her eyes and mentally counted out three seconds to let the feeling pass before opening them again. It was during that time that an eerily familiar voice passed through her consciousness.

And you wonder why I quit the force, Sam.. Seems you and Gillarme are starting to see what I saw. Striking isn't it?

Sam had heard that voice when she'd first transferred to the Kirov, and still wondered if perhaps she was hallucinating. She'd looked up the man she'd replaced so long ago, that Massilion Carde individual. From what little the crew, and Leandro, could tell her, Mass was crazy in a way not unlike that apparition.

But, by asking about Mass Carde, Sam had learned something else crucial about the man. In her mind, Sam formed the words, 'Quit the force', you say? There's a new way of saying you blasted yourself.

As she thought this, Sam responded to Gilliarme, "Wondering if life is a curse, Lieutenant? It's about time you knew how the other half lives."

- Corridor, Near Infirmary -

He hadn't imagined the man would be such a mess. As he slid down the corridor on a gripper to check on Gamma Team's CO, Trent saw the man he sought leaning against the bulkhead, looking like hell. Trent grimaced at the sight.

"Lt. Te'litha," he announced sternly as he stopped his gripper a short distance from the Black Tiger.

- Corridor, Near Pilots' Quarters-

"I'll take your paperwork, JG," murmured Wolf.

See enough war, and you can see war reflected in another man's eyes. Wolf knew right away that Sven had seen little real war, yet was more than prepared to face it. It was no wonder their fathers...

Wolf tucked the paperwork under his arm and once again looked Sven directly in the eye. "Follow me to the bridge. I'm sure my father wants to take a look."

[The Loser Villain]

-Salamis Kai-Class Buxoro-
-Mobile Suit Bay-

For the first time in almost a year, Ensign Aaron Faraday stepped into the Mobile Suit hangar of a warship. Last time had been when he was stationed at Luna II and was piloting a MS-11 Act Zaku. shortly after that he was then transfered to Gryps and a member of the Titans. So far the majority of his time in the Titans has been spent in the hospital. But now that was set to change. He was cleared for limited duty less then a month ago and had been training on simulators and reading every bit of information he could get on the Hizack.

Aaron looked around the hangar for a few minutes before he spotted another pilot staring up at a Hizack. As he made his way over to the man another pilot approached and they began to talk:

"Relax, bucko. I'm guessing your the new kid. I'm your new CO. Name's M-Hover Kamek, but you'll call me Lieutenant."

"Yes sir," he responded. "Ens. Warren DeRossi, reporting for duty."

He could hear them as he got closer and when he was finally standing next to Ens. DeRossi he faced the Lieutenant and snapped to salute.

"Ensign Aaron Faraday, reporting for duty sir."

[Cybaster]

As Mass was not speaking to him, Gilliarme was otherwise oblivious to Mass and Sam's inner conversation. Instead, Sam's statement opened some doors of her own, causing him to frown. "How the other side lives...what do you mean by that, Sam?"

[Cardi Doorl]

- Salamis Kai-class Buxoro -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

Warren DeRossi, then. At least he wasn't on the wrong ship. And he seemed enough an ignorant kid to obey every order. Then again, that Drossel jerk had seemed the same way, too. Picard had recommended Drossel to a position on the Kirov in order to get that usurper away from him, but hadn't expected Patrick Miller to be shipped off, too. Picard had hoped to keep that beefy automaton around to ensure someone on the team mindlessly carried out orders to the letter. Then again, it was hard to tell he wasn't on the team anymore, the way he wandered around the Buxoro anyway.

In any case, M-Hover had one of these new guys to deal with. The other guy...

... appeared suddenly to snap a salute before uttering, "Ensign Aaron Faraday, reporting for duty sir."
Picard blinked at the man's sudden appearance, then grinned. Another brighted-eyed kid? Perfect. "Welcome to Buxoro Team, pal. I was just meeting the other new guy here, Ens. DeRossi. I'm your CO, M-Hover Kamek."

Picard then pushed off the floor and then, by gripping Aaron's shoulder, pulled himself around and behind the two new pilots in one quick movement. He then hooked his arms around their shoulders like an old friend and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, "We're Buxoro Team now, guys, and I'm your leader. You're gonna listen to everything I say. I tell you to jump, and you start jumping, then ask how high. Are we clear?"

* * *

- Gryps 1 -
- Club Get-Right -

Aleksandr Ivanovich Stukov had, unusually for him, spent almost all of his leave on the colony rather than remaining on the ship. Each night, he went from bar to bar before collapsing in a drunken stupor at the first hotel he could find. On a Titan light commander's salary, he could afford it.

He'd never been the type to pull these kinds of benders, but he wasn't about to talk.

The current place was simply the latest in a long line of places. He barely even noticed going from one to another anymore. God knows where Leandro was. Stukov had received information that a replacement had come in for the late Mercedes, but the Russian hardly gave a damn.

Then a young man came in, the first new face in a while. From the other side of the bar, Stukov, clutching a half-empty bottle of vodka in his left hand, staggered blearily toward Jason. Stukov's uniform was oddly well-kept, but the man inside it sported an uncharacteristically stubbled jaw and dark rings under his eyes. It went without saying that Alpha Team CO reeked of booze.

Stukov walked up close enough to Jason that he was practically breathing down the man's neck. After making a production of swigging his vodka, Stukov rumbled, "You with Echo?"

[jim98]

For the second time today, Warren was taken aback by his new CO. Certainly he'd never met an officer in the Federation who behaved in such a strange manner towards his subordinates. Is this guy for real? He seems a little...mental to be commanding a squad... he thought to himself, noting both the manic gleam in his eye as he spoke and the less-than-subtle patronizing tone in his voice.

Still, he had to admit, it wasn't like the Titans were choosing pilots on the basis of sanity or social etiquette. M-Hover Kamek had to be a top-notch pilot to get a command position in this organization and, at the end of the day, that's what really mattered, wasn't it?

Besides, he had no desire to disobey orders as it was. He had no delusions of grandeur about his role in this war. He was a grunt, and if he was going to survive it would be by fighting like one. There was no reason not to agree with M-Hover...

"Yes sir, I understand perfectly."

[The Loser Villain]

- Salamis Kai-class Buxoro -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

"Welcome to Buxoro Team, pal. I was just meeting the other new guy here, Ens. DeRossi. I'm your CO, M-Hover Kamek."

Aaron's left eyebrow raised as his new CO referred to him as 'Pal' and was about to responded with a 'I'm looking forward to serving under your command,' when the Lieutenant swung around behind the two men and said for only the two of them to hear:

"We're Buxoro Team now, guys, and I'm your leader. You're gonna listen to everything I say. I tell you to jump, and you start jumping, then ask how high. Are we clear?"

It was hard not to smile uncomfortably at the way the Lieutenant was acting, but in a way Aaron was also happy to hear that he was once again part of a team.

"Yes sir, I understand perfectly."

Ensign DeRossi responded first and now seemed like as good a time for Aaron to chime in as well:

"Yes sir, crystal clear."

[wonton bob]

- Gryps 1 -
- Club Get-Right -

"Right about now-ow-ow, You're about to be possessed-essed by the sounds of MC Rob Base and DJ Easy Rock, Hit It!..."

Another of these loud incessant songs hits the air which would have irritated Jason but since there's beer around he's somewhat satisfied. Midway through his first beer Jason feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"You with Echo?"

As Jason turns his eyes are drawn to the man's rank and immediately Jason jumps to his feet and salutes. Not that it would matter any to an officer that was clearly inebriated.

Aah! what the hell is he doing here

"Yes Ltcmdr. Newly assigned to Gamma Team. Ltjg. Jason Drossel, Sir." Jason proudly introduces himself as ideas drift by the back of his mind.

By this man's bearish description, he seems to fit a pilot on the Kirov who has attained a small legendary status as an Ace during this war. At least the mechanics think so.

Still, this guy looks pretty smashed so I could probably say anything and he wouldn't remember tomorrow or whatever day he wakes up.

Without losing a beat Jason pounces on the opportunity while it's here. Assuming he's the Alpha team's CO.

"I haven't officially reported in yet Sir, but if you could give me a heads up on the Gamma team's CO it would very much be appreciated."

Jason motions his fingers at the bar keep for another round for Stukov.

[Gambit01]

He hadn't imagined the man would be such a mess. As he slid down the corridor on a gripper to check on Gamma Team's CO, Trent saw the man he sought leaning against the bulkhead, looking like hell. Trent grimaced at the sight.

"Lt. Te'litha," he announced sternly as he stopped his gripper a short distance from the Black Tiger.

At the sound of his name, Nick immediately 'stood' regid and at attention...which turned out to be a mistake, as a dizzy spell immediately overtook him.

"Sirrrrr....."

Nick had to 'brace' himself; it was the only thing that would keep him from passing out. He took a few deep breaths, and stood to face his commanding officer again, giving him a salute.

"Sir?"

[The Big Zabowski]

"I'd have been worse off going to the AEUG and leaving the force altogether.

I had nowhere to go. Hence why I was better off eating that M71. The Titans weren't something that I wanted to be a part of, and then being disowned by a family because of being a Titan, kind of put the coup de grais on a life spiraling out of control. But I'll spare you the waterworks."

The Monoeye then flashed again, this time it's pink eye flashing rather than a blue hue. It flashed again in quick succession before finally dying away.

"You aren't at fault Sam..the goons that took you in under the false guise of bringing peace to the world did it all. Gillarme is right. The Titans have lost their way, and may never come back around. You're too good a soul to be lost in this..so I suggest you discuss it with him. Besides..it may lead to something better for you.

What this is I really can't say at the moment. But do what you think is right Sam."

Mass then faded from Sam's mind and the feeling of the pair being watched faded away, Mass returning to his place of rest in his former, and Sam's current quarters.

[Xvlai]

- Corridor, Near Pilots' Quarters-

Sven let his hand fall to his side. Perhaps I was to quick to make my introductions. After all he only knew hear say about the man and that hear say didnt pain Wolf as the friendliest fellow. After all the only true bonding soldiers could have was the one on the field of battle.

Shifting his ruck sack again Sven replied. "Lead the way sir." "It would be my pleasure to meet with your father." Taking a moment to stop Sven looked up and down the corridor. "I confess the reason I was waiting in the hallway was to ask directions it is my first time on this class of ship."

[Cardi Doorl]

- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

Ltjg. Leandro Fulgencio Alvarez wiped his brow and took another look up at his Hizack Custom. He'd been working on it every time he was on duty with a fanatical zeal, earning him a reputation that, coupled with Stukov's longstanding reputation, had the enlisted men convinced that only Alpha Team was as crazy as the CO of Gamma Team. They were convinced Leandro had some kind of split personality, as he was, when off duty, laid-back to the point of criminal negligence; yet, when he was on duty, he would work away at every miniscule detail of his mobile suit while muttering in rapid-fire Spanish, his eyes darting about to follow his constant hand movements. The handful of mechanics who caught his words and understood Spanish said he was muttering about a fist of God and the sword of retribution or something crazy along those lines.

Had these enlisted men told the Kalinin mechanics about Leandro's actions, the latter would refuse to believe the former was talking about the same man who'd piloted a Hizack aboard the Salamis Kai. They would have had no idea that Leandro had, in his time aboard the Kalinin, been a ticking time bomb anyhow. In any case, the Kirov crew felt sorry for any poor dumb bastard who'd have to be assigned to Alpha Team to replace the departed Mercedes.

With a deep breath, Leandro glanced back at the only other pilots in the suit bay - Lasalle and Fulton from Delta Team. Those two were taking a look at their brand-new machines. Barzams, they were called. Leandro, too, took a look at the new machines. He could respect them, yes, but the CS-type Hizack was, Leandro was convinced, forever his own sword of vengeance.

Leandro looked back to his machine. What the enlisted mooks didn't know was that Leandro wasn't muttering to himself while working. Oh no, Leandro was talking to the machine. Leandro and the machine were one. When Leandro was piloting the Hizack Custom, be it on a combat sortie or a patrol around Gryps as he'd had to do two days ago, there was no longer any boundary between pilot and mobile suit. The enlisted men could never understand that these machines had distinct consciousness all their own. In fact, many pilots never came to understand this, either. That, Leandro was convinced, was why some pilots lived while others died. Leandro was no longer a rookie. He understood. He saw that Stukov understood. Nick, Wolf, Gilliarme... they all understood. That was why they survived.

Leandro was one with his mobile suit. Together, they could become the fist of God. They would bring fury and retribution upon those who cut short Erebus Jones' life. There was no distinction between Leandro's and his mobile suit's purpose.

-

That voice in her head, that disembodied consciousness - Sam couldn't bring herself to consider it a "spirit" or any such word she considered ridiculous - washed over her mind with a torrent of... thought? information? Sam still wasn't sure in what terms in which to think of these bizarre sensations she experienced.

But what was this? Too good a soul? Leading somewhere better? This Mass individual (assuming, as Sam wasn't entirely convinced about it, it was the late pilot) seemed convinced Sam had to talk to Gilliarme about... something. Perhaps Sam couldn't put the pieces together, or perhaps Sam was trying to convince herself she didn't have the pieces in the first place, but she told herself that this was just a bunch of nonsense anyway.

Regardless, there was something the voice said that struck an especial chord in Sam's mind and almost caused her to stumble with her words while speaking to Gilliarme. No, it wasn't in the hints and advice Mass had directed at Sam, though those, too, lingered in her consciousness and would turn about in her mind for a long time to come. It was instead something Mass said about himself.

...the coup de grace on a life spiraling out of control.

...a life spiraling out of control...

-

In the world outside of Samantha Fulton's mind, meanwhile, Sam wasn't quite the passive thinker. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nose, her shoulders rising and falling with the passing of air. Then, Sam abruptly opened her eyes and turned to fully face Gilliarme.

"Maybe it's something someone like you can't easily understand, Gilliarme, but you're not like most people in this world. You were born with you future set out right in front of you, your destiny assured, your... your place carved out and ready for you to grow into it. You're one of those people who's always known nothing but winning at life, nothing but going from a clearly-defined Point A to Point B. No doubt you always had money, a stable family, some idea that you were serving some kind of purpose and doing something great for the world. I can't stand people like you, okay? To you, success is something that just happens. You know why that Te'litha *sshole calls you 'rearliner'?"

Sam had always been sparse and terse when speaking with Gilliarme, but there was something about Gilliarme's change of attitude that had struck a nerve Sam hadn't felt in years, and now the words were coming out, almost without her bidding.

"I've met people like you before, Gilliarme. You have this optimistic little worldview about everything, this idea that you can make everything better if you try hard enough? And why not? You always get what you want sooner or later, so no doubt you wonder why nobody else just up and does the same thing, right?

"Let me tell you something about people like me, Lieutenant. We're the other 99% of humanity. We're the ones who have to spend our entire lives trying to figure out what we're supposed to do with it. We're the ones whose every waking moment is a life-or-death struggle to survive. We don't win, and we can never win - we can only cut our losses. That's just how it is when you don't lead a charmed little existence. That's what happens when your path isn't clearly marked from birth. We're the ones who d*mn well don't know what we're doing. We're never sure we're doing the right thing, and every day we wake up and wonder why we even bothered."

Sam tapped lightly with her right foot, sending her floating slowly toward the ceiling. She continued speaking, now looking down at Gilliarme.

"People like you look at the world and wonder how you can make it better, reassured that you can and wondering why nobody else looks at it the same way. I can tell you why we don't, too: we're too busy trying not to get crushed by all the impossibilities and complications you've never known or even considered. That's the life people like me lead, Gilliarme; expending so much energy just trying to stay alive and convincing ourselves its somehow worth it that there's no time left over to figure out where we're going with it all or what it all means or what we're meant to do. If we're lucky - if we're really, really lucky - then maybe we get to grow old and figure all that stuff out when it's too late to do anything about it. In the meantime, all we can do is scurry around in the middle of all this falling bullsh*t and hope we don't get crushed. If you're wondering if the effort needed to breathe is even worth it, then welcome to the rest of humanity, the ones who usually lose at everything. Take a number and sit down."

Sam wasn't sure what she was saying at this point, and frankly didn't care if she was even making sense. She told herself that she just wanted Gilliarme to stop talking and go back to all the other idiots in the world who were above everything and didn't even know it, but at this point she didn't really know what she wanted.

[Cardi Doorl]

- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Corridor, Near Infirmary -

Nick, in the condition he was in, probably didn't even notice that Trent had gripped his shoulder to help steady him.

"At ease," he sighed, then continued with no lack of well-controlled fury, "Nick, what in God's name has gotten into you? You know d*mn well I need you in shape to fly a mobile suit next time we ship out, and your constantly running away from the medical staff isn't helping that."

As Trent said this, he'd made a furtive hand wave motion. Behind Nick, the chief medical officer had quietly stepped out the door from the infirmary and had held up a document for Trent to see, but the Commander didn't need to see the paperwork up close to know what it was. It was hardly the first time a medical officer had filled out an official recommendation that Nick be taken off combat duty.

"If you keep doing this, Nick," added Trent, "Then chances are I can't, in good conscience, let you fly next time we come into contact with the AEUG. You know I need you out there, Nick, so don't do this."

- Corridor, Near Pilots' Quarters-

"Is that so?" murmured Wolf flatly at Sven's confession. Without missing a beat nor waiting for Sven to make a move, Wolf took a gripper to the bridge. As he did, he raked his memory. Wolf was certain he'd never met Sven before, but no doubt he knew the father's face. After all, the elder Haksson had surely made appearances at formal events with the Ritters and the Engels and other prominent families in the Ritter sphere of influence.

They reached the bridge quickly enough and were granted entry. The bridge was mostly empty, with a skeleton bridge crew - mostly backup personnel, as the regulars were off duty - and Commodore Wolf Ritter as the only ones inhabiting it. The Commodore looked as though he were about to leave anyway.

"Sir," uttered Wolf, "Ltjg. Sven Haksson has reported in."

The elder Ritter looked Sven over much as the younger had earlier. Then he smiled only slightly. "Ah, Sven Haksson. You've grown into quite the soldier, even if you've had little chance to prove yourself over the years. I'm sure your father must be proud of you."

[Cardi Doorl]

- Salamis Kai-class Buxoro -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

Picard's grin widened as the two greenhorns answered.

"Good. Good. Those were both correct answers. Now, unfortunately my last XO was shipped off to another assignment, so right now I'm without an XO. I still have Varis, one of the guys from the old team, but let's just say he isn't exactly XO material, if you know what I mean. That means that one of you fellas will have to take the spot. Now, which one of you would be up for that? It means you get to be second-in-command around here, after all."

* * *

- Gryps 1 -
- Club Get-Right -

Stukov takes the extra round Jason ordered and takes a hit without even pretending to be grateful for the charity. After a long swig, Stukov growled, "Gamma Team's CO? Nick Te'litha? I can tell you the only thing you ever need to know about Nick Te'litha.

"Nick Te'litha is crazy. He's crazy. He's the craziest man in Taskforce... Taskforce Echo. He is... he is crazy. He is selfish... a liar... he will stab you in the back and leave you to die... he will go mad for blood and kill... kill everything in his path because someone said the wrong word... he... he is a danger to himself, but everyone is in these times.

"But that, comrade, is not the one thing you need to know... know about Nick Te'litha. You see, comrade, Nick Te'litha, he... Nick Te'litha, he is a genius. You... lucky to have him lead you. Learn everything you can from him, comrade. I cannot say if you will survive, but if you do... if you do you will be strong."

With that, Stukov took a long pull from the bottle of vodka. It was strong stuff, but his expression barely changed as it passed through him.

[The Loser Villain]

- Salamis Kai-class Buxoro -
- Mobile Suit Bay -

"Good. Good. Those were both correct answers. Now, unfortunately my last XO was shipped off to another assignment, so right now I'm without an XO. I still have Varis, one of the guys from the old team, but let's just say he isn't exactly XO material, if you know what I mean. That means that one of you fellas will have to take the spot. Now, which one of you would be up for that? It means you get to be second-in-command around here, after all."


Aaron couldn't help but think to jump at the chance of being an XO, but he also quickly reminded himself of his complete lack of combat experience. Flying patrol around Luna II for a year without seeing a single shot fired hardly qualified him as XO material.

"Sir," he said with a slight bit of nervousness, "I cannot speak for Ensign DeRossi, as I do not know his combat experience, but I know I haven't any. I must say he'd probably be the better man for the job."

[Cybaster]

Alexandria-class Kirov, Flight Deck

Gilliarme Lasalle was a 'special' Titans officer in a way; he was one of the few Titans in the entire force allowed to carry a sword when he was off-duty. An antique, at that --- narrow-edged, ornate-hilted and resting in an elaborate blue sheath, it was a Mortuary Blade, used by a Cavalryman during the English Civil War, and had come as part of the dowry when he and Winnie were married --- but a sword nonetheless. It wasn't as if the Titans fussed over it, either; After all, Gilliarme would literally be carrying a sword into a gunfight, and it was no different than carrying a sidearm.

But for some reason unknown, Gilliarme had apprently decided that he felt safer carrying a sword, any kind of sword, around and within Gryps proper. And those that knew him knew that if there was a time Gilliarme Lasalle was ever serious, it was when he had the sword set down in front of him, almost leaning against it.

This was one of those times, Gilliarme placing the sheath's tip onto the flight deck and, when Samantha opted to float away, pushed upwards, causing him to float up after her in pursuit. His expression was now deathly serious as things that didn't before started to make sense, pieces scattered starting to fall together. Was this why Samantha Fulton hated her COs so much?

"Is that so?" Gilliarme replied, his voice rising only slightly. "Is that why you hate me so much, Samantha --- you think I was born and priviledged into prestige without needing to work for it, that everything's set for me...that I've been naturally blessed somehow? Honestly, I don't blame you --- most of the Titans probably think that way, I guess." And most of the Titans want to be like Scirocco, for that matter, who probably is like that. "They think just because they're Titans they're naturally blessed with some kind of 'manifest destiny' and everything comes to them naturally like they're Jeanne d'Arc."

"But you know what, Sam? You're wrong if you think there actually are people that've never lost their way at one time or another. I know I did --- more than once. This is just one in a long list of instances." Gilliarme narrowed his eyes slightly, composing himself for a second. It was as if he was pursuing Samantha and, for the first time since ever, making her listen. "Did you know why I chose to become a soldier to begin with and fight against the Zeons in the One Year War? I could've stayed out of soldierhood altogether and there would've been no disgrace. I would've moved on past the war, if I survived, to become a lawyer or chartered accountant or something non-combatant. Before the war broke out? I didn't think I needed to be a soldier.

"But then the Zeons hurt my friends. It's a long story, and if you really want I'll tell you about it sometime, but after that I couldn't focus on anything else. I hated the Zeons for what they've done, for haunting over my shoulder --- I felt helpless that I couldn't stop them as who I was, and felt that as who I was then I would never be able to protect my own family."

"And for the first time in years, I wished I was someone else other than Gilliarme Lasalle --- So I went and became someone else, and I was involved since then. It was too late. Whatever normal life I tried to lead afterwards I'd always live it with blood on my hands for a hate that I forgot what I was hating the Zeons about. And after the war, merde, Sam, I tried. I forced myself forward, focused on Ellen, and centered on her as my world, thinking that if she grows up without half the worries plaguing me I'd be doing my job correctly. But then the bastards in the Delaz Fleet came so close to taking even that away, and I felt I couldn't sit idle. I joined the Titans thinking it'd be the best way I could protect her...not reading the fine print."

"But if that's your true sentiment, Samantha, then the difference between you and me is that you are resigned to this...void, this helplessness of never winning, no point and purpose in living. I might be stuck in the same situation, Sam, I might not know why I'm still in the Titans, but damnit, as long as I live I'm not giving up. We're not the ones at fault for this mess, the Titans are. Why give Jamitov the satisfaction of punishing yourself? You might feel everything is going down the drain, but why be an empty shell and let them know they've defeated you?"

Gilliarme sighed, shaking his head, as if finally letting Sam go. "So what I'm trying to say, Sam, is that the 'life-or-death struggle' doesn't have to be the be-all, end-all of your life. We all are trapped in it, but that doesn't mean you have to let it lead you to your doom. There are people out there who want you to live and who are concerned for your well-being, if nothing else. I certainly do."

[ORegan]

Patrick was sort of just standing behind Picard staring blankly into space. He wasn't really paying attention to anything that was being said, but the large man did look as if he was Picard's personal bodyguard with the way he was just standing there, not moving very much.

Picard's voice sounded pretty much like the adults in the Peanuts cartoons. "Wom wom wom, wom wom wom wom" is how I can best spell it. Mind you, Patrick never heard of the Peanuts, and wouldn't make that simile, but I do, so shut your face. It wasn't until the word(or letters) "XO" was mentioned that he snapped out of his trance.

"Um...Sir...What happened to XO Drossel? I...I saw him not too longy agos."

[jim98]

"That means that one of you fellas will have to take the spot. Now, which one of you would be up for that? It means you get to be second-in-command around here, after all."

If Warren had been unnerved before by his new CO's actions, this latest query certainly wasn't making him feel more comfortable. He's really serious? This is so far from standard protocol that I don't even know where to begin.

More worrisome to the young ensign were the implications behind the question. Was this some kind of test? Was his CO's behavior in general one big test to see how he reacted to the unexpected? If it was, then he had to imagine he wasn't doing too well so far...

He quickly mulled the possibilities. Am I supposed to campaign for myself and show initiative, or am I supposed to be modest and decline it on account of my lack of experience?

Luckily, Warren was rescued from his dilemma by the other new ensign, Faraday, who responded first:

"I cannot speak for Ensign DeRossi, as I do not know his combat experience, but I know I haven't any. I must say he'd probably be the better man for the job."

Well that was certainly very civil of him... Warren thought. It was good to see that at least one of his new teammates had his head screwed on straight. Besides, it gave him the perfect segue into his own response...

"I don't have that much more combat experience than Ensign Faraday does, sir. Only about nine or ten minor land skirmishes in a GM II, and certainly no space combat or experience in battles with more than a couple of mobile suits on either side. I'd be honored if you decided I deserve the post, and work to the best of my ability, but I can't recommend..."

Warren suddenly trailed off as he noticed that an extremely large man had come up behind Kamek. His first thought was to not warn him, seeing as Kamek had done the same to him earlier, but he was his CO, after all...

"Sir, behind you." He said, pointing his finger at the large man, but it was already too late, as the man tapped Kamek on the shoulder and said:

"Um...Sir...What happened to XO Drossel? I...I saw him not too longy agos."

[Xvlai]

- Alexandria-class Kirov –
- Bridge –

"Is that so?"

Without waiting so much for a reply the younger man grabbed a gripper and headed off down the corridor. Sven followed and grabbed the next gripper. Using one eye to keep track of where they were going so next time he could make this trip by himself. Sven turned his more immediate attention onto something that was still bugging him. Rubbing his scar with his left hand Sven started thinking. Why now of all times a transfer? It could not be the war. We took loses but not bad enough that the political muscle holding me in place would be removed. I know it was naught for her. Father loved her, but he would not risk his last son’s life unless it was important.

The sudden departure of his silent guide from the gripper brought Sven back to reality’s grasp. Letting go of the gripper Sven followed his CO into the bridge. The bridge was practically empty with what seemed to be a skeleton crew, the rest must have been enjoying what leisure time they would get. Gazing around the room at what the crew was doing his eyes crossed an old man more likened to an old wolf than anything. A small smile broke out upon what would usually be an emotionless face. It has been quite some time since we last met, was it at Silvia’s funeral? Or someone else’s? The smile left Svens face with the thought of so much death in the last few years.

"Sir," uttered Wolf, "Ltjg. Sven Haksson has reported in."

Sven immediately snapped into attention. "Ah, Sven Haksson. You've grown into quite the soldier, even if you've had little chance to prove yourself over the years. I'm sure your father must be proud of you."

Proud? That’s probably the last thing my father is feeling at the moment. He is just doing his duty like the rest of us. Duty, the word alone had power it was what the Haksson family’s creed revolved around. Duty to those whose aid we require and those who require our aid, Duty.

“I expect he is not proud, Sir, he is just doing his duty same as me. Duty called me once more to action, and I rose to the call just as he does.” Sven had been raised in some of the greatest schools the Earth Federation had to offer. Whats more he had a even better education out of school from his father’s advisors on the family business that he was part of. “Not to be straight forward, Sir, but obviously my transfer was most unexpected and leaves me with some questions I hope you can answer.” Lowering his voice to where only the other two men could hear him Sven narrowed his eyes. “Obviously sir I was called here for another reason, and as we are all on a need-to-know basis, what do I need to know?”

[Psyden]

Grace finally crosses the boarding tube to the Heavy Cruiser Alexandria. It had taken the Personnel Department some time to finally decide to notify her of her transfer from the San Diego. It probably doesn’t help that spent the last 3 months in a mix of shore leave and patrol duty.

It’s a wonder that this thing isn’t classified as a full blown battleship.

Grace swings across the threshold and lands gentle on the deck. Over her right shoulder is her duffel bag and under her left is a long cardboard tube, a going-away present from the San D’s crew. Luckily, with her new assignment, someone in Personnel had enough fore-thought to include a map. At least now she can find her way to her new quarters to unload her baggage. With any luck, she’ll even run into her new commanding officer, but since the chances of such a coincidence are next to nil, she’ll be happy to meet just about any number of her new shipmates.

[Gambit01]

"At ease," he sighed, then continued with no lack of well-controlled fury, "Nick, what in God's name has gotten into you? You know d*mn well I need you in shape to fly a mobile suit next time we ship out, and your constantly running away from the medical staff isn't helping that."

As Trent said this, he'd made a furtive hand wave motion. Behind Nick, the chief medical officer had quietly stepped out the door from the infirmary and had held up a document for Trent to see, but the Commander didn't need to see the paperwork up close to know what it was. It was hardly the first time a medical officer had filled out an official recommendation that Nick be taken off combat duty.

"If you keep doing this, Nick," added Trent, "Then chances are I can't, in good conscience, let you fly next time we come into contact with the AEUG. You know I need you out there, Nick, so don't do this."

Nick laughed a little, finally catching his breath.

"Sorry sir, I'll try to avoid dying in the future," Nick tried to make it into a joke, but it probably fell flat. So he opted for the truth instead.

"I'm dying, sir; been dying ever since the operation. Those pills I chow down? They're just making the passing a little bit easier. But I'll be ready; whenever you need me to fly, whoever you need me to kill, I'll be there and do them in."

Nick somehow managed to stress the right words to let Trent know that it wasn't just the AEUG he was refering too...

"Sir, what about the civilian hostage the AEUG have, Celeine?"

A question that probably should have been asked long before.