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Synchro Frame: Conception [IC]


BANZAI!!!!

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"Hey kiddo, let's do some special training after lunch."

 

Leo's face grew red as Mira leaned in uncomfortably close to him, pressing her body up against his, and whispered in his ear. He knew she actually meant combat training, though her phrasing nonetheless brought... other thoughts to his mind. Either way, this was compounded by her invasion of his personal space, something that, until he had arrived at TRAP, Leo had never really had to deal with on a regular basis. Combine this with Mira's looks, and her tendency to be very physical in her interactions with just about everyone (though Leo especially, presumably because he was both new and they were closer in age), and the end result left Leo noticeably and hilariously frazzled. all he could really manage was an affirmative nod before Mira's attention was drawn to whatever was going on but a few yards down the hallway in the cafeteria.

 

Gavin, for his part, had hardly noticed the blue-haired girl come toward them, as he himself was much too focused on the commotion he observed coming from the cafeteria, and as such, as Mira came up to talk to Leo, he had moved on ahead into the cafeteria just as he heard that oh-so-wonderful voice yell out. "May I have your attention for a short while, please? And Heinrich, Beaumont, I swear if you two brawled here I'll personally find a way to make you two a cannon fodder. But anyway, on to the important stuff.

 

The Boss, I mean Adelheid, you may all notice that she's not here right now. But yeah, she, along with Feng and probably some other pilots left earlier for you who haven't noticed yet, due to a sudden order from the Shells. And as expected, she appointed Gavin as the man in charge here. Also, I am still expecting those monthly expense report from those of you that are responsible in cataloging that, so if I'm not receiving those this evening, I'll also make sure the monthly supply will arrive late, and thus, you all will eat progressively worse food from what you eat now. One more thing. I haven't received any training reports as of late from any of you. I'm also expecting those to be either placed on my desk or sent to me this evening.

 

And that's all for now. I expect you all to finish what's served in your plates now, or else..."

 

Gavin laughed. "Well, I guess she did my job for me, for once... In typical Aeollia fashion, anyway." Deciding that he need not intervene, Gavin made his way to the buffet line and grabbed lunch. Unlike a good portion of the people in the cafeteria, Gavin didn't mind the food at all, having had to suffer through much worse cooking on one of his previous assignment. It was no gourmet meal of course, but definitely something he could manage. As he took his tray back toward a cluster of tables, he found a few of his subordinates in some sort of huddle. He put his food down for the moment and quietly stuck his head in so that no one but those across from him in the circle would notice his entry, winking at anyone who did see him in order to prevent them from acknowledging his presence.

 

"So guys, what's the super secret huddle for?!" Gavin spoke loudly and enthusiastically, hopefully making anyone who was unaware of him jump.

 

Leo, for his part, had calmed down (though his face was still a bit rosy) and gotten his own tray of food (which he wasn't very satisfied with, but ate greedily nonetheless having worked up an appetite from the morning's training). He stood awkwardly outside the group, not really knowing if he should stick his own head in or just watch the spectacle unfold.

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Lieutenant Beaumont and Heinreich were just about to come to blows, when the mess was promptly interrupted first by Aeolia's arrival on the scene and her threat to treat them as cannon fodder, and then by the arrival of Gavin a few moments afterwards.  The two wound up glaring at each other and going their separate ways with a few muttered threats that neither was likely to follow through with.  Soon enough though, Heinreich found himself being dragged off by Melissa, who was actually quite strong now that he thought of it, along with his brother.  In fact, before he realized it the lot of them were pulled up in a huddle and his brother's sweetheart was putting together a plan for them to head to the village down the mountain from them.
 
"I'll go with Johan," was her first suggestion, to which the young man tried to respond before she went on, "Maybe Mira can go with Heinreich?"  Neither of the twins had much objection there, in fact Heinreich shot the girl a wink in the huddle, but Johan was still trying to get something out.  Every time he was about to speak though, he was getting cut off.  Still embarrassed from his earlier failings, and now nervous at the prospect of spending what could well be the entire day with Melissa, he wasn't quite managing the nerve he needed to cut in.  A quick glance to his brother told him he wouldn't be getting any help, but it did manage to galvanize him a bit.

 

"Not to put a damper on this idea," Johan began, turning to look towards the woman he was smitten with, "but are we sure it's a good one?  I mean we'd have to leave the base, and it's likely we'd be recognized.  I mean it's not-"

 

"So guys, what's the super-secret huddle for?!"  Gavin was about half a second from getting socked in the face by a startled pilot, but thankfully Johan managed to realize who it was before doing something he'd regret.  Honestly, the Lieutenant Commander was lucky he'd come up directly in reach of that twin rather than Heinreich who might well have punched him anyways.  Actually, by the look in his eyes there's really no "might" about it.

 

"Well, Vizekommondant," began a now freshly recovered Johan.  Really, the sudden intrusion had done him a little good.  "Melissa was just suggesting that we head down into town for some real food, and I'm not sure how good of an idea it is.  I mean, we won't exactly pass for locals."

 

"Johan, you think too much."  A smiling Heinreich was met with a glare from his brother, before a certain new pilot was noticed.  "Probie!  Don't just stand there, get over here."

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Melissa

 

Melissa groaned, feeling rejected.  She grabbed Johan's hand and looked into his face, as she put on her biggest, best puppy face that she could muster.  "But Johaaaaan," she moaned, trying to convince him to tag along.  It was risky, but there was fun in it!  Nothing like getting your adrenaline pumping while spending time with your best friend.  Their relationship was now open, known to most of TRAP, but Melissa was proud of it.  It was easier to be herself, which made her stronger mentally and emotionally.  Turning her head back to Heinreich, she nodded towards his twin as if to plea for his help.  Suddenly, the group was open to one other as Leo became a subject matter.  This made the group one man stronger, and would now provide a partner for Johnathan on his mission for the sweetest of chocolates.  Melissa got a bit more excited, letting go of Johan's hand in favor of motioning Leo towards the huddle.  

 

And before he could get away, Melissa put Gavin into a headlock and pulled him into the huddle as well.  "Since you really wanna know," she said tightly hugging Gavin.  She gasped, forgetting how strong she was and let Gavin go for fear of choking him.  Melissa wasn't muscle bound, mind you, but she could give almost anyone in TRAP HQ a run for their money.  "Er, hehe," she dusted off Gavin's shoulders apologetically.  "Ehem.  Since you really wanna know, we're planning to go into town and get some real food," Melissa said as her excitement returned.  "There's no telling what we could find!"  

 

Takeo

 

The waters were welcoming.  He could feel the sea-salt in the air.  "Status update," Takeo chimed.  Zalwara peered over the command center.  "Nearing the midway point of the Atlantic, Admiral."  Takeo nodded.  "Current speed is 60 kilometers per hour."  

 

"Keep it steady," Takeo replied immediately.  The speed was graceful, but satisfying.  "I'm going to step away for lunch," Takeo said stepping back from the center of the main deck.  "I leave things in your hands, Vice Admiral."

 

"Understood," Zalwara said, saluting the Admiral as he took his leave.  In truth, the last thing on Takeo's mind was lunch.

 

Turning the corner to his private quarters, Takeo opened the port in his room.  The ocean's waves below were so . . . distant.  He couldn't enjoy them as he wished.  Yet, he felt a sense of calm as he watched the bottomless prison below him sail by.  Un-wavered by his own emotions, and not drawn to his own search for 'destiny'.  It was it's own living, breathing organism that never changed.  And yet, unchanging, it was the most influential and powerful organism.  This was why Takeo loved the ocean so much.  It was uncontrollable, unforgiving, and most importantly, bottomless.

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"An oversized child," she thought to herself, glaring at Aeolia over her sketchbook.

 

Although Savannah was four years her junior, she felt equally as brilliant as the brainchild of the AMS system, though she had next to nothing to prove for it.  In fact, Savannah's past was riddled with failures in stark contrast to Aeolia's, which was successful in all the right ways.  How Savannah got into this program, she often wondered, was a miracle, as bad luck seemed to follow her everywhere she went.  An unplanned pregnancy hindered her early college years, her husband cheated on her about a year ago, which was soon followed by the death of a Synchro Frame pilot by her hands.  She still had nightmares about that time in her life.

 

However, things have slowly improved since then.  Her husband begged for forgiveness; she obliged for the sake of her two children and pressed on, as he was a stay-at-home dad and the one they knew better.  She wasn't reprimanded for the failure of the support unit she had spearheaded; although the backlash at her was critical, ultimately it was blamed on the Frame itself and the pilot's lack of training. 

 

Still, her mind would never be at ease over that subject.  Even so, she pressed on, creating more designs to aid TRAP.  Even if Aeolia did steal credit for most of the work she and the rest of the team had finished without her help, Savannah couldn't help but feel grateful for her position when she saw the results pick up on the battlefield.

 

Aeolia finished her little speech, her grating voice finally dying down to leave the room open for chit-chat among the other pilots and researchers.  Savannah had often tried to make friends with some of the pilots, but most of them were just far too young and naive for her to actually make good conversation with.  There was another woman on the research team whom she enjoyed talking with, but that was the extent of her circle of friends among the otherwise close-knit TRAP team. 

 

Savannah's pencil broke as she was rounding out one of the final curves on her sketch and she slammed it on the table.  Her head dropped and she muttered a curse.  Feeling more defeated than angry, she gathered her things and began to leave, not paying attention to where she was walking.  She bumped into a younger boy, [acronym='Leo']someone she had never seen on the team before[/acronym], and comically fell down.  "Oh!  I'm sorry," she muttered, gathering up her sketchbook.  "My head was in the clouds, I wasn't looking where I was going and I can't for the life of me figure out why..."

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[center]3PlD1Dt.png[/center]

[b]TRAP - Cafeteria[/b]

[center]3PlD1Dt.png[/center]

Mira had let go of the newbie's arm and simply spectating when Melissa had suddenly came over, dragging the twins with her. When Mira saw that Melissa was considering pairing her up with the troublemaker of the twins, she got excited, because she knew her own wild tendencies could go hand in hand. When the twin winked at her, she winked back, grinning widely. At that very moment, the Lieutenant Commander decided to pop into the the little group, startling her. She wasn't looking forward to any punishments, considering the last one she had almost made her unable to walk for at least half a day.

 

When Heinreich motioned at Leo to come join in, she suddenly remembered about the kiddo - who had just gotten into a collision with some woman - and turned around to yank him into the mini-huddle, causing the tray he was holding to spill. As she turned around again, she noticed Johan and Mel being all romantic, and she just groaned slightly, although this was all in light humor.

 

[font=lucida sans unicode,lucida grande,sans-serif][color=#28B4C4]"Just fūck already and get it over with!"[/color][/font]

 

Smiling to let the two know she was just being silly like she usually was, she suddenly remembered that the Lieutenant Commander was right across from her, and with a little 'eep!', she closed her mouth, praying he wouldn't notice, against all odds. Trying to slide out of it, she dragged the newbie and Heinreich into a smaller mini-huddle as inconspicuously as she could. Luckily, at the moment she had said her rather bold joke, Mel had wrapped the senior man into a headlock, which she expected would've muffled the sound, meaning that Mel and Johan would've heard it, and - hopefully - the Lieutenant Commander wouldn't have. [font=lucida sans unicode,lucida grande,sans-serif][color=#28B4C4][i]Perfect…[/i][/color][/font] Turning to Heinreich, she whispered intentionally loud enough so that Leo would hear, but no one outside their small three-person group would.

 

[font=lucida sans unicode,lucida grande,sans-serif][color=#28B4C4]"Heiney, let's take this kiddo along with us. He needs his… [i]initiation[/i]… don't you think?"[/color][/font]

 

Winking at Heinreich, she sidled up to Leo again, pressing herself up against him rather closely, ignoring his flustered reactions. [font=lucida sans unicode,lucida grande,sans-serif][color=#28B4C4][i]Seems like the training's going to be delayed a bit… but this is a good chance to have some fun![/i][/color][/font]

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"Just fūck already and get it over with!"  The words brought snickers to a few members of the group, Heinreich included, at the expense of Melissa and Johan.  Though...really it was mostly Johan that was embarrassed by it, and more than a little angry.  His face turned a nice bright shade of red, similar to a beet, and he wound up just opening and closing his mouth several times.  He couldn't think of an adequate response, and he didn't want to start screaming angrily in German at the group.  There'd been enough swearing that just about no one in the room could understand between his brother and the lieutenant.  Speaking of Heinreich, he was about to start trying to get his brother and Melissa to go off some place and take Mira's advice when he found himself pulled away yet again.  Really, being dragged along everywhere was starting to get annoying.  Well, at least Johan was given a chance to get thinking straight and actually talk sense.
 
"Yes, there's no way to know what we'll find in the village.  That's exactly the reason we shouldn't be heading down there.  Sure, it's unlikely that Terra Firma knows any of our faces but it's better not to risk it.  If we're going to go somewhere for real food, we should wait until we get some leave and go to Shell Asgard.  I could show you around, I mean Heinreich and I grew up there."  Thoughts of home brought a bit of a smile to his face, and a contented sigh.  In the mean time, his brother was dealing with something far more interesting.
 
"Heiney, let's take this kiddo along with us. He needs his… initiation… don't you think?"  Now that was something he could get behind, and given the look he saw on Mira's face...well it stood to reason she had something fun in mind.  He found himself looking back and forth between the two of them, some of the only present members of the team that were younger than him, and nodded his head.
 
"Jumpy, you're speakin' my language."  He chuckled to himself, and found his crimson gaze resting on Leo while a wide smile crossed his lips.  "Well, Probie?  Think you're ready for-"  He stopped talking as he noticed someone nearby, and snapped to get his brother's attention.  The two of them wound up looking over towards where a certain engineering tech had been trying to talk to Leo a moment ago, and the realization of who she was snapped into their minds at the same time.  The two of them rather quickly broke from their respective groups and embraced Savannah from either side.
 
"Doktor Schwinn!"  The two of them laughed aloud, wide smiles on their faces as they looked over the woman they'd known since early on in their training.  "We didn't know you were back yet!"  

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"Just fūck already and get it over with!" Those words brought a small smile to Aeolia's face. As expected, the resulting reaction coming from everyone was quite amusing for her to see, especially Johan's reaction. Aeolia was more fond to Johan compared to his twin brother, mainly because of Heinrich being quite the annoying person to deal with at times, though she really did realize that she had no room to talk about it due to her being roughly similarly as annoying as him, but this hadn't stopped her from pointing it out at times.

 

But, the person she was more interested in seeing was her fellow scientist, Savannah, who was busy with her sketchbook up until her pencil broke. She tried to leave not long afterwards, but she then bumped accidentally with Leo, and the twins noticed her presence before embracing her. Savannah was one of her colleagues during the development of the Synchro Frames and some other things, and Aeolia knew she was one of the better scientist the SAF had access to, but she's not really good with words especially about explaining things, which often caused her problems during her carrier, and not to mention the unfortunate thing that happened with one of her most important invention. Despite of all that, once again she's still one of the best colleague Aeolia had worked with, and she quite appreciated her decision to join in with TRAP. Though, she also knew damn well too that Savannah didn't really appreciate her due to her probably taking too much credit during the development of the Synchro Frame, but it's not really something big enough to be concerned about for Aeolia.

 

Not really having anything left to do in the cafeteria after finishing her food and doing her announcement, Aeolia decided to leave the room, but not before she approached Savannah and whispered something in her ears.

 

"Hey, may I ask for your input on some designs? It's just some experimental things that the higher ups wanted, and some drafts for mass-produced versions of some of our Synchro Frame's tech. They're still unpolished and far from over, so yeah. Don't worry, I'll give you full credits this time. Thanks~"

 

After that, Aeolia bowed to Gavin before leaving the room towards her own quarters, thinking about getting some extra sleep on that peaceful day.

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Well, Vizekommondant, Melissa was just suggesting that we head down into town for some re-"

 

Gavin was unable to hear the end of Johan's sentence as Melissa grabbed him and put him into a surprisingly strong choke hold. He could barely breathe for a solid few seconds before she let him go, apologetically dusting him off and giggling nervously. Gavin would have laughed as well if he wasn't trying to regain his breath, but he managed to recover enough composure to give Melissa a look that told her he wasn't angry.

 

"Ehem.  Since you really wanna know, we're planning to go into town and get some real food. There's no telling what we could find!"

 

Gavin raised an eyebrow incredulously. He could more or less plainly see this hair-brained scheme for what it was. One the other hand though, this was an opportunity to raise the team's spirits, which was something that the unit would definitely benefit from. Though it had been almost a month since Lauren Vega went missing in action, the affects of her absence were still felt quite strongly around the base. Morale was still low, and the lack of action recently had made a lot of the personnel restless and easily provoked (Heinrich's confrontation with Beaumont being only the most recent incident). At the very least this was a good opportunity for his pilots to unwind, even if it had quickly and blatantly become a ploy by Melissa to take Johan out somewhere slightly more romantic than the TRAP base, as Mira, who was more or less oblivious to the other end of the huddle, not-so-subtly alluded to. 

 

"Just fūck already and get it over with!"

 

Gavin, having regained his breath, laughed this time. Melissa and Johan were cute together, if nothing else, though Johan could really use a little help when it came to being charming and/or romantic. Still, Gavin couldn't help but feel just the slightest pang of jealousy. After all, surely this would have been a wonderful opportunity for he and Adelheid to unwind (together even, he hoped), but at the moment she was hundreds of miles away on Shell Shangri-la with Feng, Atelier, and Akira. The orders hasn't been handed down to him yet, but there was a pretty good chance that the three pilots that she had taken with her (in addition to Sam, who had been ordered to HQ on Shangri-la a few days prior to Lauren's disappearance) would be transferred out of TRAP in order to more directly reinforce the front lines.

 

This sort of thing had happened to TRAP before (Mira and Feng had previously both been transferred into the unit as other pilots transferred out), though having their fighting force nearly cut in half like this didn't bode too well. At the very least, it took a load of the maintenance staff, who were constantly overworked trying to fabricate parts for the unique machines in the hanger.

 

---

 

Islands weren't supposed to move, were they? They certainly were never this flat and hard.

 

The seagull pondered this as it tried in vain to hunt for any edible morsels left behind on the Dark Tide's tarmac. Unfortunately, the deck of a warship was the last place anything remotely resembling food for a gull could be found. Still, necessity, and more immediately the rumbling in its stomach, dictated that it must continue its search until it could satisfy its hunger... even despite the fact that it could feel the eyes of another creature fixated on it.

 

"Why the hell do you insist on feeding the rats with wings, anyway?" Drayden Seidrich spoke to his wingman in an annoyed tone through chomps of a cigarette as he sat with his legs hanging off the end of the Dark Tide's massive number 3 flight deck, which by virtue of being on the bottom of the port side's stack of three, was a good deal closer to the ocean below than the bridge that towered over them some 70 or so meters upward. For her part, Drayden's wingman payed her grouchy commander little mind as she scattered bread crumbs in a small area, which the hungry gull quickly clued into and began gobbling up one by one. She spoke back to him as she watched, her own tone of voice reflecting a contented sort of disinterest in what Drayden had to say. Though Shark Squad worked efficiently on the battlefield, its members weren't particularly close and occasionally didn't get along, and that was especially so for Drayden and his new AMS-compatible partner. Drayden found her annoying, and her attitude had already begun to grate on him, though thankfully she hadn't done anything to set off his notoriously violent temper yet.  On her end, she didn't much like putting up with him, but did so because it was her job and kept her distance, which was probably for the best. For the moment though, she had decided to come out onto the flight deck to capitalize on the presence of a few birds and maybe have a legitimate conversation with her CO for once, and as such she was in a bit more of an amenable mood.

 

"Even seagulls are rare these days. Any wildlife needs all the help it can get, you know?. I'm just happy to oblige is all."

 

"Shouldn't you be more concerned with calibrating your Charcharias?"

 

"The techs are working on the frame's software right now. Even if I wanted to get to it I couldn't. Besides, you looked lonely all by yourself out here." There was a bit of playful sarcasm in her tone, and it was evident that she was trying to tease him. Drayden laughed a bit. Though he didn't really like her, the fact that she was at least making an effort to get along pleased him for the moment.

 

"Fair enough. Just don't get any crumbs on me alright?"

 

"Wouldn't dream of it." with that, she went back to her birds, though the two pilots did feel a bit more comfortable with eachother's presence after their short interaction. It was a start, at least.

 

---

 

"Probie!  Don't just stand there, get over here."

 

Leo looked up from the tray of food that was in his hands as one of the twins (he couldn't tell which one)  called over to him. Though he didn't really enjoy being in such close proximity to other people (Mira especially after a couple of minutes ago), Leo at least took comfort in the fact that he was being included in things, something that didn't happen as often back in High school on the Shells. As he took a cautious step forward though, he felt someone bump into him, knocking him off balance and almost making him lose hold of his food.  Though Leo missed the resulting pratfall, he managed to recover himself and turn around to see who had nearly knocked him over. It was a rather frazzled looking dark haired woman who was probably somewhere close to Lauren's age who was now busying herself picking up the scattered portions of her sketchbook. Despite having been present at the base for the better part of a month now, Leo had never seen her before.

 

"Oh!  I'm sorry, My head was in the clouds, I wasn't looking where I was going and I can't for the life of me figure out why..." Leo gave her a friendly (if a bit awkward) smile.

 

"Don't worry about it. are you alright?" Before he was able to hear this woman's response though, Leo heard an oh-so-familiar voice mention his name.

 

"Heiney, let's take this kiddo along with us. He needs his… initiation… don't you think?"

 

"God dammit."

 

Before he could respond to anything, Leo felt Mira grab him again and bring him into the group huddle as both twins broke off from their respective portions of the circle to hug the new woman, whom Leo now knew was call Dr. Schwinn. However that pertinent piece of information was quickly put out of his mind as Leo found himself in uncomfortably close proximity to Mira...again. His face, which had just now at last recovered from its rosiness, became bright red once more, and like last time Leo was at a loss for words, simply struggling futilely in Mira's embrace and occasionally whimpering. Having his personal space encroached upon so flagrantly was one thing, but the fact that he found Mira attractive made it all the more difficult for a teenage boy who until now had had minimal contact with the opposite sex, and after two separate incidents of this in such a short time it was pretty clear that it was something Leo was definitely not equipped to handle, though watching him struggle helplessly must surely have been entertaining to watch for anyone looking on.

 

Well, at the very least Gavin found it entertaining as he stood on the other end of the shifting mass of pilots and personnel. He watched and waited for the all to finish meandering (and for Aeollia to leave the cafeteria after attempting to discreetly talk to Savannah about something) before speaking again.

 

"Alright kids! Enough's enough. If you all want to go into town then you can come with me as long as we do it discreetly and we're in and out quick. Wouldn't want to get a mission call and not have our pilots here, right?" He spoke just loud enough for everyone assembled to hear him without arousing too much suspicion, though in all honesty anyone who heard him probably wouldn't have ratted them out anyway. "If you want in, meet me in the hotel upstairs in say.... half an hour, alright? If you're late we're leaving you behind."

 

With that, the Lieutenant Commander made his way out of the cafeteria to get ready and to make sure the coast was clear for him to take the squad out grocery shopping. After all, the last thing he wanted was to have Aeollia find out and reprimand them... or worse still: make them buy her food.

 

---

 

Roughly an hour later, the group arrived in the village that rested farther down the mountain's slope on a flat, plateau like section of the range where the bases of two peaks met. They had gotten out of the hotel without a hitch and made it to the grrage a few hundred meters away where SAF had stored a few jeeps and trucks for the personnel to use in case supply delays forced TRAP to gather provisions from the local towns. Taking one of the jeeps, the group had driven about a half an hour down the slope into town, and luckily for them the market was open and full of whatever that year's harvests had been able to grow. Though supplies were sometimes scarce, the people of the Alps did fairly well for themselves by virtue of minimal SAF ground presence in the region.

 

Having gone into town a few times before, Gavin knew the layout well. The roads of town were mostly unpaved and home to much more pedestrian traffic than automobile, with the main street being occupied by a farmer's bazaar at mid day to take advantage of anyone that may have been passing by.  Luckily for TRAP, this year had been particularly good to the locals, and as such there was a wide variety of fresh goods to be bought. A few blocks away, more modern storefronts could be found selling anything from bootlegged electronics from the Shells to toiletries and sweets, so long as one could afford to pay or trade.

 

Gavin stopped his jeep at an intersection to the main market road and turned around to those seated in the back seats.

 

"Alright guys, split up however you like,but make sure you keep in touch." He brandished a small walkie-talkie, of which there were several in the back seat. "Lets all meet back up here in, say, two hours, alright?"

 

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Melissa

 

Before Melissa had a chance to greet Schwinn, she was flush with red as Mira made an absurd remark.

 

"Just fūck already and get it over with!"

 

Melissa turned quickly to Mira, her eyes sharp like daggers, but she quickly preoccupied herself with Heinreich.  Just then, Johan suddenly pulled away as Doctor Schwinn stumbled into the Mess Hall.  She giggled to herself as Heinreich and Johan's faces lit up upon the Doctor's arrival.  Schwinn and Melissa were nearly the same age, but the Doctor's reputation was much more widely spread.  And in the middle of this fuss, Gavin finally decided to step in and help Melissa further her plans.  Though, judging by his booming 'speech' he was wanting to go into town for something other than food.  Melissa shrugged as she listened.

 

 

"Alright kids! Enough's enough. If you all want to go into town then you can come with me as long as we do it discreetly and we're in and out quick. Wouldn't want to get a mission call and not have our pilots here, right?" He spoke just loud enough for everyone assembled to hear him without arousing too much suspicion, though in all honesty anyone who heard him probably wouldn't have ratted them out anyway. "If you want in, meet me in the hotel upstairs in say.... half an hour, alright? If you're late we're leaving you behind."

 

It took them all roughly one hour to reach the village after departing from the mess hall.  As they reached the quiet village of Biagio, Gavin had the team to split into groups of their choosing.  Naturally, Melissa would snag Johan for herself, and hope that the two hour time limit they were given wouldn't go by too quickly.  Before he could refuse, Melissa grabbed Johan by the hand and began tugging him towards the inner circle where they could get lost in a large crowd together.  The civilians had gathered around the center of town for show, where a man wearing a Jetser's garb was telling a tall tale.  Children giggled as they watched the Jester bounce about, rolling and jumping from large pillars to barrels of hay as he told his story in vivid detail.  " . . .but naturally with every villain--every monster, there comes a hero.  This man's name, was Beowulf!" the Jester said as he made a prideful stance, sticking out his chest and placing a leg on a stone before him, in heroic fashion.  When Melissa was sure she and Johan had lost the rest of the team in the Biagio Circle, she slowed down, nearing the marketplace.  She could tell they were close by the smell of fresh fruit, meats, and herbs.  There were sweet shops, butchers, and fruit stalls everywhere, but Melissa was looking for something else.  Suddenly, a strong sense of starch hit Melissa in the nose, and her eyes grew wide.

 

Around the next corner, nearing the local rice farms, there was freshly cooked pasta being pressed and cut.  Melissa loved spaghetti, and this was the perfect place to get some great ingredients.  There were ripe tomatoes nearby, and garlic and basil would really liven up the flavors.  "Johan!" she said with a big smile.  "Let's do spaghetti.  Lots of it!  We can do meatballs too!  And some fresh bread!?"  The excitement in her voice was like a child's at Christmas.  Melissa had to catch herself from getting to worked up.  She took a deep breath, as she approached the workman who was cutting the pasta.  "Good evening," she said with a chipper voice.  The worksman looked up, a smile on his face.  "Good day, dear.  Would you like some pasta?"  He was a burly gentleman, with a scraggly beard and brown wool hat.  He wore suspenders over a cotton white shirt with heavy brown boots.  He first looked into Melissa's face, then noticed she was blind.

 

"Oh dear," he said softly.  Melissa frowned slightly, but didn't get upset with the worksman.  "I'm sorry dear, I didn't--"  "It's quite alright," she said keeping her mind on the meal.  "How do you sell your pasta?"  The worksman frowned, looking to the pasta, then back to Melissa.  "Er, by the bundle ma'am.  You can buy it raw and cook it yerself, or if you're not goin' far, the fresh boiled batch is best."  It would take some time to return to hq, so buying the pasta uncooked was the best way to go.  "I see," Melissa said assuredly.  "May I have two raw bundles, please?"  The worksman nodded, before catching himself and speaking up again.  "Er, yes ma'am, certainly."  He stepped away from his stall and went into a home behind him, emerging with two bundles of pasta.  Melissa handed the worksman his fee, and prepared to step away, when she noticed one bundle was noticeably lighter than the other.  "Have a good meal mis--"

 

"Just a second here," she said turning back to the worksman.  "In this second bundle . . some of the pasta is missing."

 

"Missing?  No, no dear.  It's all there.  Ya just can't see it."

 

Melissa stopped, sighing heavily.  She was insulted and embarrassed.

 

"Oh, er that's not quite what I meant," the worksman said nervously.

 

Melissa shrugged.  She had completely lost her enthusiasm, and suddenly felt under the weather.  "Don't. . uh-- mm, never mind.  Thanks," she said as she began to walk away.

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An hour and a half after the meeting in the mess hall, the twins found themselves crammed in the back of the jeep that they had taken down to the village, and finally being released from the confines of that terrible piece of machinery.  Heinreich was about to ask, for the fifth time, why they couldn't have just taken two of the vehicles when the vice commander spoke up.
 
"Alright guys, split up however you like,but make sure you keep in touch." He brandished a small walkie-talkie, of which there were several in the back seat. "Lets all meet back up here in, say, two hours, alright?"  Deciding just to go along with it, Heinreich snatched up a pair of the communicators and stuffed one into his brother's pocket just as Johan was dragged off by an enthusiastic Melissa to go and do whatever the girl had planned.  Chuckling to himself, the von Drackenmoore twin turned about and quickly found Mira and Leo as they had planned.

 

"Well, let's go figure out what we're gonna do for your 'initiation,' probie."  That was all the warning the two got before they were dragged of by the young man.  Clad in a set of civilian clothes that looked identical to his twin's, really the two had dressed identically in dark pants and light shirts, Heinreich pulled the two younger members of the team off behind him in search of something they could do or some place they could work out what to do to the newest pilot.  Instead of taking them towards the end of the market where foods and spices were being sold, and his brother was probably going to do something stupid, he instead led them off towards the end where the shops selling more material sorts of goods could be found.  Humming tunelessly as he looked about, Heinreich looked for any particular store front that looked more interesting than the others.

 

---

 

Across town, Johan had since been thoroughly removed from the rest of the group by the woman he tentatively referred to as his girlfriend.  Honestly he still got more than a little nervous around her, and after the events in the mess hall earlier that day he wasn't exactly feeling his best.  Still, being dragged off where he was surrounded by the sounds and smells of all sorts of food around him had a bit of a comforting effect.  None of it was what he was used to, but all the same he managed to get into a slightly better mood.  Food was one of the things that could best influence his mood.  Hearing Melissa's suggestion that they go about making spaghetti, he separated from her for a moment.  She'd gone off to purchase pasta, and so he ran off to get the ingredients necessary to make a sauce.  It took some asking around among the locals, and more talking than he was admittedly comfortable with, but he managed to get back to Melissa just as she was leaving the stall where she'd purchased the pasta.

 

"Hey Melissa!"  He cried out, carrying quite a few bags filled with everything they could need.  Herbs, tomatoes, garlic, and several spices that he didn't recognize along with a few loafs of freshly baked bread wrapped up in a bag that would keep them warm.  He did work quite fast after all.  "Think this is e-" he stopped as he noticed that her expression had fallen from the energetic smile she'd shown before.  "What happened?"  He didn't wait for her to answer as he made his way over to her and set those bags down on the ground.  Instead of letting himself think, and risk messing things up like he had before, he decided to do something.  Before the young woman could stop him, he'd wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

 

---

 

Seated on a bench along the main road through the town of Biagio was a man that many called a living legend.  Though the time of his greatest fame had long since passed, Terra Firma had a younger face on their recruitment posters these days, there were still more on both sides of the conflict these days that knew his name.  Clad in his distinctive heavy black coat, and with a cup of tea from one of the local shops being periodically sipped in his right hand, the bald-headed form of Michael Wittman sat.  He and his team hadn't received any new orders from high command in quite a while yet, and so he'd given the lot of them unofficial leave.

 

Nothing much worth noting had happened for a few weeks in the sniper's life, and given the lack of orders coming he half-expected the next communication to be someone on the top brass telling him that he was being promoted out of a direct combat role.  It was something he both looked forward to and dreaded; because the promotion would both keep him safer and let him likely see his daughter grown into a young woman, and at the same time he could not picture doing anything more than leading men into battle.  He was about to sigh, only to see a young man being dragged off somewhere by a young man.  It was a sight that made him chuckle.

 

"Ah, young love."  His voice was smooth and deep, like a fine cup of coffee, and touched ever so slightly by an accent.  Years of working with people from other parts of the world had altered his mannerisms to the point that he really only sounded German when he was stressed, and he did a great deal to avoid being stressed.  On that note, he took another sip of his tea and turned his gaze to the sky above.  It truly was a fine day.

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Melissa

 

After the brief moment of distress, Johan had returned to Melissa's side.  She hadn't noticed he had disappeared so suddenly to gather the other ingredients.  He paid attention to Melissa, and that meant a great deal to her.  When Johan returned to Melissa, the pasta worksman was dumbfounded with a blank expression on his face, no swayed by Melissa's slightly frowned face.  Melissa didn't get angry often, but to make light of her because of a handicap hurt her pride and her enthusiasm.  Fortunately for her, she could not see the worksman's face, but she could tell by the tone in his voice that he had no care for Melissa's integrity.  Nor did this man show Melissa even the slightest bit of respect.  But of course, the hero of her story had returned at the climax of the scene.  With no words, he turned that outrageous moment into a peaceful one.  A hug from someone you hold dear had more weight than the moon, and more depth than the ocean.  Melissa's expression went from agitation to comfort with Johan's presence.  She happily returned his gesture, paying no mind to the few missing rolls of pasta.  "Nothing any more," she said replying to Johan's question some few seconds ago.  She gasped, sensing the bags behind Johan.  "You got everything!" she said excitedly as her enthusiasm returned.  Meanwhile, the worksman continued to stare, wondering how this young man fell for this blind woman.  The worksman sighed, shaking his head and returning his eyes to his pasta.

 

Melisssa reached for Johan's hand now, as the smell of fresh baked bread tugged at her nose.  "Come on, I just wanna grab some bread!"  

 

 

 

Takeo Yoshino

 

The Dark Tide powered through the Atlantic Ocean, and Takeo watched over it's main deck.  The older Japanese man turned his attention to his Vice Admiral, a sudden change in his mood.  "Zalwara," he chimed.  Zalwara stood at attention, turning to Admiral Takeo.  "Sir."

 

"Take over for a bit.  I want to check in on . . some of our guests," Takeo said stepping away from the main deck.

 

"Yes sir," Zalwara complied.

 

Disappearing below, Takeo headed towards his room to retrieve his chess board.

 

 

 

Melissa

 

There was a bakery not far up the road.  It was settled along a stone gate high on a hill, just above the Atlantic.  Melissa ordered two loaves of fresh bread, and two fresh pretzels.  She gave one to Johan, smiling at the baker as they walked east to a stone bench alone on the roadside.  Melissa sat first, ushering Johan over.  Taking a bite from her pretzel, Melissa sighed, taking in the ocean air.  She sighed a happy sigh, and spoke.  "Johan," she said softly.  "I know I'm a handful, but thanks," Melissa said with a smile.  She turned her gaze to the crashing ocean waves, staring into the distance.  "I can only imagine the looks you get from the others.  And I certainly don't mean to make things awkward around them, or embarrass you at all.  I haven't really felt this away about someone before you."  Melissa turned her face to Johan, but quickly turned back to the ocean.  She laughed at herself, embarrassed again.  "See?  I can barely face you without feeling strange.  I blame it on my handicap, but that's one of my biggest strengths."  Putting her face in her hands now, Melissa groaned.  "I don't even know why I'm saying this.  I think just the thanks was enough," she said with a forced laugh.  Johan probably couldn't quite grasp how grateful Melissa truly was.  He had made her day with a simple gesture, and restored her excitement.  Melissa normally only got riled up in training exercises or on the battlefield, but Johan offered her a chance to be 'normal'.  Melissa could almost read Johan.  She could feel the sincerity in his voice, the honest stare,, and the concerned but hopeful smile.  She could feel that, and it was comforting.  Taking away from the romantic gesture, Melissa tossed a bit of her pretzel to the ground, and 'watched' as several seagulls swooped down to peck at it.

 

Then, she quickly snatched a piece of Johan's pretzel, and ate it for herself, giggling as she did so.

 

 

 

Takeo

 

The Admiral knocked four times, hoping that the young lady was dressed.  He waited approximately one minute after his knocks before opening the door, and stepping inside of her room  Placing the chess board on a wooden table before him, Takeo ushered the new guest over to a chair.  He did not ask if she played, nor was he concerned with whether or not she was 'busy'.  Takeo spoke softly, but clearly.  "Come.  Let's get to know each other better," he said to the young pilot before him.

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---

 

"Hey, Rio. Have you noticed that Captain was being very...odd, lately? I mean, after that mission several days ago, it felt like a part of her lost somewhere. Not sure though, but yeah, this is quite worrying. What do you think about this?

 

But eh, probably you didn't notice it, as always. If so, why did captain call you, by the way?"

 

Saria, who had just met Rio as she left the command center of Terra Firma's prized battleship Ceres, cheerily asked the eternally grumpy colleague of his a question, that Rio just seemed to ignore as she walked away from Saria. Saria's cheerful expression turned into concern, and he then followed RIo for a bit more.

 

"Hey, what's wrong? Do you still mad about yesterday? If so, I'm sorry for going too far back then!" Saria worriedly asked Rio, concerned that he was the one that was in fault for Rio ignoring him more than usual. But to his relief, as Rio seemingly heard his words this time, she stopped on her track, and after several seconds of silence, she started to talk

 

"You will be stationed on the Dark Tide under Admiral Takeo's supervision for the next several days. Captain Annerheim said that she was still not sure about the reason behind this decision from the higher-ups, but she decided to send you alone in the end. The rest of this ship's crew, me included, will head towards the Anaheim base, to defend it from a potential SAF assault. We can't afford to lose another Frame production base at this point, and I hear they were developing something secret there.

 

Take care, and don't you dare dying there."

 

While spoken as uncaringly as always, Saria didn't really expect her to talk that much to him, and he could definitely get from her last sentence that she was genuinely concerned about him, and because of that, a smile formed on his face as he turned around and started heading toward the Hangar, where he would be preparing himself for his next mission.

 

No matter what the mission would be in the end, as long as finishing it meant that he could be on Rio's side once again. Saria would gladly do it.

 

---

 

Blazing at the full speed of 3.5 machs with his Synchro Frame's jet mode, Saria went straight towards the gigantic metallic construct that his radar had been marked to be the famed "Dark Tide". As he passed the Dark Tide, Saria made a sharp turn, and now his frame was standing still in front of the Dark Tide as he tried to establish a connection with the unit.

 

"This is Moth-00, Liteunant Nisaria Black, coming here under the order from Captain Annerheim of the Ceres, and her superior. I have some papers about my assignment here with me, but I'm still not exactly sure about the exact reason why am I stationed here, so there's that.

 

I hope I'd be of service here, so please let me in."

 

---

 

After properly storing his frame in a hangar, Saria decided to ask the crew around him about the Dark Tide, while waking around to memorize the interior of it. After finding his room and being sure that he had memorized enough of the interior, Saria walked towards the main deck, preparing to introduce himself to the person in charge there.

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Zalwara

 

Admiral Takeo had disappeared below deck.  Moments later, a Synchro Frame blazed past the Dark Tide's main deck, before requesting to come aboard.

 

"This is Moth-00, Liteunant Nisaria Black, coming here under the order from Captain Annerheim of the Ceres, and her superior. I have some papers about my assignment here with me, but I'm still not exactly sure about the exact reason why am I stationed here, so there's that.

 

I hope I'd be of service here, so please let me in."

 

After verifying the frame's codes, it was docked with the others.  Their newest crew member, Nisaria Black, was shown to his room, and decided to casually stroll the ship before he was welcome.  How annoying.  After taking their time to make towards the main deck, Nisaria was met by two guards, currently blocking the entrance to the main deck.  Zalwara could sense the pilot's presence, however.  "Let him through," Zalwara said nonchalantly.  Standing aside, Nisaria was led directly to meet Zalwara.  "I thank you for not killing everyone on the main deck with your reckless flight patterns.  We are grateful," he said sarcastically.  Zalwara examined Nisaria from head to toe.  He was young, probably not much older than 17 if Zalwara had to guess.  He had a very feminine appearance, but Zalwara could discern Nisaria from the others.  Well, Zalwara didn't want their most recent recruit to feel too uncomfortable.  Granted, this was his nature, but Zalwara wasn't about to take Drayden's place and be the biggest dick on board.  He shook Nisaria's hand with a firm grip, introducing himself.  "I am Vice Admiral Zalwara Adachi.  Admiral Takeo is currently away from his post but should return shortly.  I trust you've already made yourself comfortable?" he joked.  He didn't smile, but you could tell Zalwara wasn't overly serious.  "Lets see those documents," Zalwara said taking the papers from Nisaria.

 

Apparently, this was the youngster's idea of a joke.  A crudely drawn creature with a penis protruding from its backside glared blankly into space.  The word "Dick" was written above it, and the word "Butt" was written below it.  Zalwara looked up from what he believed to be the back off the documents, and up at Nisaria.  "Tell me, is Dick Butt your previous commander?"  Flipping the documents over, he analyzed them carefully.  "I'll pass these on to Admiral Takeo.  For now, you're free to go."  Zalwara turned his attention back to the Atlantic Ocean.  Thinking to himself, he pondered over having another sudden new crew member just as they had began to cross the Atlantic.  The Big Wigs knew something that the crew of the Dark Tide did not.  While it wasn't concerning, it certainly excited Zalwara.   Well, for the moment at least.  Zalwara was now rudely interrupted by his stomach, growling loudly as he had skipped breakfast.  Turning to Captain Robert Archer, Zalwara excused himself, making his way to the kitchen.  He would quietly join the chefs in preparing his own meal.

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"Tell me, is Dick Butt your previous commander? I'll pass these on to Admiral Takeo.  For now, you're free to go."

 

"Wait, wait a second!" Hearing what Vice-admiral Zalwara said, Saria's face reddened with shame as he realized that he had handed the wrong file to him. The "Dick Butt" thing was a prank from one of the crew of Ceres that he had forgotten to dispose earlier, and due to him being in a rush when he left his frame, he accidentally brought the wrong document with him.

 

"It-it's a mistake, sir! I'll go get the correct document immediately, sir!"

 

Though, the vice-admiral didn't seem to listen to him as he left the room, so Saria decided to just make haste, and ran straight to the hangar, to pick the document containing Captain Annerheim's message to Admiral Takeo, and the details about his reassignment there for the time being.

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The young man found reason to smile as his embrace had the effect he hoped it would on Melissa, and he let out a sigh of relief.  He was about to tell the woman about what he had found, how he had gotten all the necessary ingredients to go with the pasta, when she commented on exactly that.  It always surprised him just how much she could tell about the world without her eyes, and just when he was thinking how amazing an ability it was that she had he noticed her reaching for his hand.  A few quick motions before he took hold of hers, and he had gathered up everything that he'd brought along.  "Well, then come along."  He said, before taking the lead this time.  "I know a place that you'll like."

 

A few minutes later and they had made their way to that bakery up the street where he had purchased the bread to go with the spaghetti.  Of course he insisted on paying for the bread and pretzels that Melissa ordered, and after a while they went outside to sit on a nearby bench while the loaves the baker had just put in the oven finished.  Pretzels were something of a weakness for the young man, and right as he started eating his Melissa went on her own long and roundabout way of thanking him for what he had done.  It was supremely comforting to know that things weren't just awkward for him, though admittedly he felt a little guilty smiling about it.

 

"Melissa,"  he began, after letting her snatch a piece of his pretzel for herself, "I don't really care about the looks I get, or things being awkward around others, or any of that.  I mean hell, I spend most of the time I'm not with you off by myself somewhere."  He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her in close, holding his pretzel in the other hand.  "What I'm trying to say is...I love you.  And I really don't care about anything else."  And then he leaned down to bite a little piece off of her pretzel in return for the bit she'd taken from him.

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Zalwara

 

Zalwara chuckled as he wondered where the new crew member had ran off to.  Zalwara had disappeared into the kitchen, and unless the youngster hunted him down, his demeanor would become frantic, disoriented, and worried.  It would be hilarious.   Skillfully twirling knives about, Zalwara snatched some onions and garlic from a nearby storage unit, and diced them in seconds.  Next, some fresh greens, adding color to the plate. Of course, he needed an actual plate first.   Plucking some beef and potatoes from the fridge, he began a simmer that filled the kitchen with an alluring aroma.  Tossing in his onions and garlic, he let it cook on a low fire.  Next, Zalwara sliced his potatoes open, but not completely.  Cleaning them thoroughly, and thinning the skin, he popped two potatoes into the oven, and began to grate some cheese.  Simultaneously, Zalwara grabbed bacon from the fridge, and began to fry it on a second burner.  After a brief twenty minutes, his meal was complete.  A hearty slab of beef, two bacon and cheese stuffed baked potatoes seasoned mild, and a mint leaf for the palette.  He nodded at his plat, as the chefs behind him looked on in wonder.  Zalwara was satisfied to say the least.  Though this was not his most impressive work, Zalwara didn't want to take too much time from the chefs who were preparing lunch for the rest of the crew.

 

With his plate in hand, Zalwara headed to his room.  Passing by the hangar, the new pilot he had just flustered was fumbling for the proper documentation.  Zalwara stood outside the hangar, and began to eat.  "Oi," he called to Saria.  "Potato?"  he offered one of the stuffed potatoes to the pilot, solely to see his reaction.

 

Melissa

 

She blushed.  Honestly, this was what Melissa was hoping for.  She realized that she was always in a bit of a rush with Johan, dragging him to and fro.  She felt silly, when she realized at the last moment, Johan had already bought bread.  It only just came to her, but extra bread couldn't hurt.  When he pulled her closer, Melissa rested her head on Johan's shoulder  It was tranquil, calming, and refreshing.  Suddenly, Melissa recalled that she hadn't even considered a desert.  Then, she remembered Johnathan was a sweet fanatic.  She was now sure he would pick up something delicious.  Meanwhile, she wondered more about Johan.

 

"Say," Melissa said as she looked up at Johan.  "I didn't even ask you what you wanted to eat.  What are your favorite foods?"  As hilarious as it was, Melissa was genuinely curious about things like this.

 

Johnathan

 

There.  Just beyond the horizon.  A cornucopia of sweet shops!  Johnathan thought he was dreaming!  Chocolates, candies, and mints!  Licorice, jellies, and cakes!  It was truly a magnificent sight to behold.  He didn't know where to begin!  Instead, he dove right in, and went clockwise from shop to shop, starting with the chocolates.

 

"Good day, young sir!  Can I interest you in our fine chocolate mousse?" the stall owner said, with a heavy Italian accent.  

 

For a moment, Johnathan said nothing, absorbing the sweet aroma of the drool-worthy chocolates.  Catching himself, Johnathan looked up from the stall, to it's owner, a child like glimmer in his eyes.  "I'll take two of everything you have."

 

The stall owner stepped back.  "Really?"

 

Johnathan pulled a roll of money from his pocket, and stood it on the stall.  "Really, really." 

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Saria managed to blitz through the ship rapidly and grabbed the right documents from his frame before returning towards the command room to hand it to the Vice-Admiral while asking for his apology. But much to his surprise, he met him near the hangar, eating something that Saria assumed to be a delicacy.

 

"Oi," the VIce Admiral called at him."Potato?"

 

His casual attitude when offering the delicacy surprised Saria, who was definitely not expecting him to just act that...informal, especially after his mess-up earlier on the bridge. Saria at first wanted to refuse his offer, but with him not wanting to be rude to his current boss, and the fact that he hadn't eaten for at least a day made him accept it.

 

"..S-sure. Thank you." Saria showed his gratitude by bowing awkwardly to the vice-admiral. But before he went towards the potato, Saria delivered the documents to Zalwara first, still awkwardly.

 

"A-also, here's the correct papers regarding my reassignment into the Dark Tide for the time being. There's also a letter from my captain to Admiral Takeo there."

 

---

 

"That project...it actually exists? And all these times I thought it's simply just a tale to scare children to sleep....

 

The last resort plan of ages past, to be used when the Shells failed to do its job as humanity's ark...

 

Right, right. I'll definitely look into the data you've managed to find so far. What's the archive name, by the way?

 

It's the one named Project As-"

 

Aeolia's call was interrupted by a random, momentary blackout at the base, cutting off the signal for a moment. While everything returned to normal just seconds later, Aeolia was pissed off by the random blackout, and also suspicious that it was caused by a foul play. Picking up her communicator, she contacted one of the mechanics to check the power grid of the base to see if something went wrong with it.

 

After finishing her call, she stared at her watch. It's been around one hour since the pilots and some other left to go get some supply to cover for the base's delayed supply delivery. Not sure, but despite that there's no reason for her to worry about anything for now, she was getting itchy in contacting the pilots to see what the hell were they doing at the moment. The next second, she was already busy with her communicator again.

 

"Hey Gavin, you there?

 

Give me a progress report, now. Don't ask about why, just do it."

 

 

 

-

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Zalwara

 

Zalwara nodded, following Saria's awkward gratitude.  Accepting the documents from Saria, he continued nodding.  "These seem to be in order," he said softly.  Zalwara was almost certain, that despite Saria's overall demeanor and stature, he was a scary pilot.  Something about Saria threw Zalwara for a loop.  The reaction was about what Zalwara expected.  Though seemingly shy from his own perspective, Saria was honest.  But, nevertheless, Zalwara was indeed curious as to why all of these pilots were suddenly being reassigned to the Dark Tide.  Folding the papers once over, Zalwra slid them neatly into his back pocket.  It was best to get his own curiosities out of the way when he was at his most calm:  eating.  Continuing his meal, Zalwara wiped his mouth with a napkin.  "Tell me about your frame," he requested politely.  The best way to answer questions about an unknown pilot was to know their frame.  This would tell Zalwara the intentions behind Saria's assignment from his superiors, and his aptitude as a pilot.  They walked past a frame cloaked in a white tarp that was soaked in dust.  You could barely see its silver plated feet.  Zalwara made sure not to pay it any attention, as to not have Saria draw any conclusions.

 

Johnathan

 

In hand, in bag, and in strange carton, Johnathan had chocolate.  Chocolate everything.  There were still stalls he hadn't visited, but being concerned with the time, Johnathan didn't want to be left behind.  Making his way back towards the agreed upon meeting place.  It was difficult, however, as Johnathan had to resist the urge to stop and eat every bit of chocolate on his person.  He groaned anxiously as he approached the intersection where the jeep had parked earlier in the day.  It seemed he was the first to arrive.  Sighing, Johnathan placed the chocolates in the jeep, and began walking back to town.  He must have been earlier than planned.  Thinking he had another hour to spare, Johnathan sprinted back towards the sweets, but tripped as he stumbled past an older gentleman sitting on a bench.  The man's head was literally in the clouds, as he stared up into the sky, while Johnathan apologized profusely.

 

"I'msorryI'msorryI'msosorry.  I'm terribly sorry!" Johnathan said getting to his feet, dusting himself and the gentleman off.  "I was in a rush to get to the sweets stalls, not looking where I was going, trying to get back to meet my team in time, and I'm hungry and . . ." Johnathan couldn't seem to finish a sentence for fear that this older, albeit suave looking gentleman was about to end his pathetic life.

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"My favorite foods?"  Johan took the question with a bit of surprise, turning to look at Melissa as he took a moment to consider.  "Well, I'd have to say I'm especially fond of Bratwurst and Sauerkraut.  My father employed this cook when I was seven, and I'd guess he probably still does, that made the best of both I've ever tasted."  The young man laughed a little while, taking some time to enjoy the pleasant memories from his childhood.  Of course he did stop laughing rather quickly, as those thoughts brought him to compare the way he was then to the way he was now.  His face became rather somber, and he actually found himself glad that Melissa couldn't see his face right then.  "Anyways, how about you?  Do you have any favorite foods?"

 

---

 

Michael was briefly shaken out of his reverie at the sight of a young man stumbling past him, at which he set down his tea and stood up from the bench to help the lad to his feet.  Of course the older man found himself pausing as the young fellow started spouting apologies at him rapid fire, such that it was almost hard for him to understand.  It was just such a funny sight that the sniper had to laugh, before he yanked Johnathon up to his feet and forced him to stand nice and straight.  "Young man, you need to take some time to relax.  Keep stressing like that, and you'll end up looking like me."  He ran his left hand over that perfectly smooth, slightly shiny, bald head of his.

 

"As for getting back to your team in time, I'm sure they won't leave without you."  He chuckled, before sitting back down on the bench and going about sipping his tea.  "By the way, what sport does this team of yours play?  From the look of you I'd guess Lacrosse, or maybe Football."  After all, it didn't make sense for a man as young as the one before him to be part of any other sort of team than sports.  Especially since his team was the only military force he knew about in the area.

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Melissa

 

Melissa's eyes widened.  "You had a chef!?  Like, your own chef!?  That's so cool!" she said as she thought about her own childhood.  She and mother had always done all the cooking at home, unless her father insisted of course.  Melissa wondered what Johan was thinking as his laughter ended so abruptly.  If he had wanted to talk about it, he would.  Melissa went on to answer the question.  "Hmm," she thought for a second.  "My favorites?  Well, I love food so it's hard to say," she joked.  Honestly, Melissa had been through such a variety of meals as a child, that it was difficult to say which was really her favorite.  If she could pick out of any three, it would be narrowed down to one of each her own, her mother's and her father's dishes.  It came down to dad's before Melissa was satisfied with her answer.  "Grilled shrimp!" she said at last.  "Papa would only make them on really special occasions because seafood was so scarce.  But when he did, they were always my absolute favorite," she said laughing.  She recalled how her father would sometimes change up his shrimp recipe.  He would wrap them in bacon and marinate the skewers for hours before presenting the meal with an absurd flare.  Melissa's father was a bit of a showman, and love to overdo and excite things more than necessary.  Melissa went on to recount the time her father actually raised a skewer of shrimp in proclamation of the fantastic meal . . .only to have it swiped by a local hawk.  He had charged furiously after the bird, but to no avail.  "And the look on his face!  When he sat down, he pouted like me," she giggled.

 

"So, what was your childhood like?" she asked hesitantly.  Melissa was legitimately curious.  Having a chef is one thing, so she wondered what other obscurities reveled in Johan's past.  Did he have maids too!?  What about a private plane!?  An indoor coliseum!?  Mmmmmmmmmmmmmaybe that last one was a stretch, but it still excited her.

 

Johnathan

 

The older man gave a rousing lift to Johnathan, picking him up with incredible strength.  He was a bit startled, but glad that he wasn't killed on the spot.  How embarrassing would his obituary have been?  'Local boy massacred by elderly giant.  Locals say he was beaten to a pulp for disturbing the man's rest.'  Or something along those lines.  Fortunately, that was not the case.  Johnathan obliged at last, answering the older gentleman's question.  "Sport?  UH YEAH!" he said nervously.  "Heh.  We, er, are . . . a. . . local polocrosse team!" Johnathan said quickly.  It was the only thing he could think of at the time.  "Our last game was rather brutal so we're uh . . .taking a much needed vacation."  Johnathan stopped speed talking at last, finally composed.  He took a seat next to the old timer.  "What about you, boss?  Are you waiting on a loved one?  A grandchild maybe?  Oop--!"

 

Johnathan clasped his mouth, praying he hadn't just offended his now possible attacker.  "Well, I mean you might be picking up a fancy sportscar or motorcycle too right?" Johnathan said trying to correct his mistake.  Effectively, he had just called Michael old.  Johnathan braced himself for a powerful punch, and began to analyze rapidly his paths of escape.  "S-s-say mister, you don't know where the nearest hospital is do you?"  Johnathan said as head began to bead with sweat.

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"My...frame?"

 

In the middle of munching his treat, Saria was asked by the Vice Admiral about his frame. While he would gladly say the details to him, he remembered Mr. White's warning to him regarding disclosure of his frame's specification, even to an ally. Thinking of a way to explain the frame's capability without spoiling too much, Saria went silent for several minutes as the two walked together across the hangar. But before Zalwara could start getting too suspicious about his silence, Saria had found a satisfying enough answer to answer his question for now.

 

"Well, it's one of the transformable model sir, but unlike the ones used by the SAF, the 193, mine is designed very differently. It's quite a frail frame due to purely being built for speed, but it's not really a big problem. 

 

It's an all-range versatile frame, armaments wise.

 

As for its capabilities...."

 

A mischievous smile formed on Saria's face.

 

"It's designed to take on armies, simple as that."

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Zalwara

 

 

Zalwara smirked.  This wasn't the response he was expecting, but it was satisfactory.  He proceeded to reiterate what Saria had just said.  " . . . .designed to take on armies . . . well said," Zalwara said stopping abruptly.  "My frame was designed with the same intent," he said ominously.  "Though, likely not as fast as your own . . .in the air at least."  Though, this really got Zalwara curious now.  Was it possible that they would encounter SAF soon?  Zalwara's frame was initially intended to be the only Synchro Frame aboard the Dark Tide.  But now there was a large influx Synchro Frames, adept pilots, and aggressive soldiers.  Zalwara did not proceed further.  He stopped, turned back towards the hangar entry, and began to leave as a sudden realization appeared on his face.  Before leaving the hangar, he turned over his shoulder to Saria.  "Saria.  I don't know what you're keeping to yourself, but I hope you are battle ready."

 

 

 He was sure of it.  Orders to ship overseas, and sudden gain of Ace level pilots could only mean one thing.  "War is coming."  Was the Dark Tide being sent to collapse on an unexpecting enemy?  Or perhaps this was a territorial move, and they were being used to secure land for larger Europe operations?  One thing was certain to Zalwara, however.  He stopped at his own covered frame, running his fingers over the ends of its hidden blades.  "There will be blood."

 

 

Disappearing from sight, Zalwara began heading towards Takeo's room.

 

 

 

 

Johnathan

 

Sighing, Johnathan calmed down again.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to offend," he said calmly.  He wasn't usually this jittery, but Johnathan knew he had to be on his toes.  "Say, what do you know of sports mister?  Have you played anything?"  Now that John was done exaggerating, he felt a lot better.  Regaining his composure, Johnathan turned to the old man and stuck out a hand.  "I'm Johnathan by the way," he said with a courteous smile.  The old man gave off a fatherly, but dangerous vibe, hence Johnathan's previous spasms.  Still, it was easier to make friends than it was to make enemies.  Keeping his cool, Johnathan played the conversation tactfully as not to give himself, or his teammates away.

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  • 3 weeks later...

"How long are you gonna stand there feeding a few birds for, anyway?"


A lengthy period of time had passed since Drayden's wingman had decided to join him on the Dark Tide's flight deck and not only was her presence beginning to annoy him, but the sheer incalculable amount of bread crumbs she would have had to have brought out with her in order for her to have been continuously scattering them for the entire width and breadth of her stay on the flight deck was surely physically impossible to carry in a small bag. Were the laws of physics breaking down?


"Not too much longer, since I'm almost out of bread crumbs."


Imminent universal collapse averted


"You should probably go and check up on your frame, maybe put a uniform on in case the brass see you. We were lenient at Rushmore, but around here you probably can't get away with that skirt."


"I'm quite used to military procedure, Drayden, thank you. I wouldn't be out here if it was going to be an issue." Though out of Drayden's vision she did pull the garment down a bit so that it went past her knees.


For his part, Drayden was now annoyed, though not agitated enough to warrant standing up. "Suit yourself, just don't come  complaining to me if the admiral hands you a demerit. Wouldn't look very good in your situation now, would it?"


She didn't respond. The gulls, having eaten their fill for once, had flown off, and so she too made the still-surprisingly long trek back down the flight deck and into the interior of the Dark Tide. It didn't take her long to make it to the room that had been assigned to her, and after she was inside she shut the door behind her and began to change into the white and forest green uniform that all Terra Firma pilots were supposed to wear.


---

 

Everything was going according to plan for the most part.

 

The team had split up into three groups, just as Gavin had predicted. Johnathan, being a slave to his sweet tooth, had gone off alone in search of chocolates while Melissa and Johan had gone off together in search of ingredients and likely a nice spot in which to be alone together. That just left Leo, Mira, and Heinrich, the latter two of which had taken the former against his will off some place. This left Gavin on his own, just as planned, and he decided to use this opportunity to do a little personal shopping, as well as enjoy some much needed alone time.

 

The first order of business was, naturally, to stock up on items for Gavin's own personal stash: jerky, filters for his e-cig, and of course bourbon for the non-existent liquor cabinet that absolutely was not hidden behind a false wall panel in his room, for emergency disinfectant of course.

 

It took Gavin very little time to hunt down and purchase everything he needed (though he'd had to do quite a bit of haggling in order to afford the liquor). In fact, after returning to the jeep and carefully stashing his things out of sight, to his surprise he found that he had burned through just under a half an hour of the two hours he'd allotted to the shopping trip. Just as well, it was probably best to move along. After all, the supply delivery would be arriving at the base in about thirty minutes, leaving the pilots with just enough time to justify making a sweep of the area in their frames before returning to base. Of course, the whole plot hinged upon Aeollia's tendency to stay locked up in her office, as any foray outside the protective confines of her study would surely alert her to the fact that the team's frames were still safely stored in the hangar, and that most of the base crew (who were of course in on the plan to give the unit's pilots some well-deserved time off) had deceived her into thinking the opposite.

 

Gavin made his way back out of the alley in which he'd parked the jeep, having decided to dedicate the remainder of his free time to finding something to get Adelheid. She was sure to be returning from the Shells in a bad mood (well, a worse mood than usual for Adelheid Schwarzschild, anyway), and a gift would be just the thing to lighten her spirits after an extended period of dealing with the top brass and any new pilots that happened to be assigned to TRAP.  The conundrum lay in what to get her. Addy kept her personal life mostly under wraps, even from Gavin, and so finding something that would suit her proved to be difficult.

 

Candy? No, the woman had no love for sweets. She even took her coffee black most days.

 

Booze? A good idea, but as commanding officers and pilots the two of them weren't allowed to keep alcohol in their rooms, and she might get angry at him for being so brazen about the fact that they both did so.

 

Flowers? Maybe. Though she might misinterpret his reasons for giving them to her... though to be fair Gavin's motives weren't exactly platonic.

 

Then he saw it. Sitting at the front of the stand of an old antique dealer was a roughly three inch carved lion, sculpted out what appeared to be carnelian. The sight of it reminded Gavin of Adelheid's love for cats, and the red color of the statue, Adeheid's favorite, was the what sealed the deal. Surprisingly, it was quite inexpensive for something that appeared hand-carved, though Gavin wasn't about to inform the dealer of this fact as he bought it. Satisfied with his success, Gavin made his second foray back to the jeep. Then, he heard his communicator buzz.

 

"Hey Gavin, you there?

 

Give me a progress report, now. Don't ask about why, just do it."

 

"Son of a b****."

 

---

 

 

BGM: Obsession

 

Mid-autumn in the Atlantic meant the coming of choppy seas and stormy weather, though today clear skies and calm seas prevailed, at least for a little longer. Against the the backdrop of the endless ocean below them, a squad of CFS-114S Peacemaker combat frames surveyed their surroundings, ever on alert for signs of Terra Firma's Atlantic Forward Fleet, which had been spotted by the long range radar systems onboard Shell Arcadia three days prior steaming eastward. Unfortunately, due to Arcadia’s need to take on supplies in north Africa and a lack of any other long range detection systems present in the contested Atlantic, SAF had been forced to rely on its own resources to hunt down and find the some seventy vessels that comprised the Forward Fleet, and as such the fleet had been able to elude them. Despite the loss of recon, tactical analysis indicated that, in all likelihood, the fleet  was making its way toward the Mediterranean Sea. Should such a large force successfully pass the strait of gibraltar  and enter the mediterranean, it would be able to launch devastating assaults on the flanks of SAF’s western European and North African battle lines with its frames and aircraft.


About 300 miles southeast, an operator aboard a SAF AWACS Solstice radioed one of his subordinate squads.


“Scarface 1, report in.”


“Nothing new to report, control. Just endless ocean and Hunter’s yawning.”


“Roger that, move on to sector H7.”


“Confirmed, moving on to H7.  Hey, how’d that date go with that girl from Intel, what’s her name?”


“Maria. She loves me, but her boyfriend, not so much.”


“You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”


“Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do brother. Now get that sector cleared so we can get you back home and dried off ok?”


“Roger tha- hold on here control we’ve got a bogey. Bearing 10-0-0. Its big.”


“Confirmed. Instruments show a large bogey at 10-0-0.”


“Any matches in the database?”


“Profile matches a destroyer-class. Probably an old Aegis ship. Switch to combat mode is advised. Be on the lookout for SAMs.”


“Roger that control. All Frames, switch to combat mode and hold formation, over.”


“Hang on there Scarface 1, getting more hits on your radar readout. Can you confirm?”


“Affirmative control. We’ve hit the jackpot, over. 20 signatures, all moving east at a nice leisurely 30 knots from the looks of it, point man’s picking up more.”


“Copy that, Scarface.” The controller took his headset off for a moment and turned around in his seat, facing the Solstice’s captain. “Sir, Scarface team has sighted the enemy.”


Nodding, the captain turned to one of his communications officers and began dictating a message to be sent to command as the operator returned to his instruments and headset. “Scarface, conduct further recon and RTB, over.”


“Roger that control, conducting further re-” The pilot stopped as his radar showed what appeared to be a large naval vessel approaching his squad on radar at an unbelievable speed, easily past the speed of sound and much faster than any of their combat frames could hope to accelerate to. “Control, we’ve got incoming, its fast!”


The operator, who’s readouts were linked to Scarface Squads own radar displays saw this too. Not wanting to take any chances, he issued an urgent order. “Scarface, bug out! RTB over!”


Before Scarface 1 could respond,  what seemed like swarms of Surface-to-Air Missiles appeared from the incoming vessel below. “Arc Cannons! Shoot ‘em down go!” came the order, and near-instantly all six frames in the unit opened fire, shorting out as many incoming missiles as they could with blasts from their scout Peacemakers’ shoulder weapons. It was no use, however, and within seconds, five of the six Combat Frames had been hit, falling to numerous successive direct hits in just moments. Below him, Scarface 1’s main camera caught a short glimpse of their assailant. It was indeed as large as any naval vessel, but shaped like no boat he’d ever seen. It was sleek, almost ovular in fact, and it was turning on a dime at such a high speed that its circular wake formed a vortex behind it, the waves becoming so violent that it resembled the sea in a hurricane. There was no time to take in the sight of it though, as the mysterious target launched another wave of missiles.


“Too many!”


Try as he might, Scarface 1’s maneuvers would do him no good. Just moments before his frame was swallowed up by the detonation of some 14 guided missiles, he transmitted his combat data and video feed to the Solstice, the last frames of his transmission depicting the eerie shape below.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Zalwara

 

He had darted to Takeo's room, but he wasn't there.  "Where the hell is he?"  Zalwara then took off in the direction from whence he came.  He dashed past the kitchen, through the mess hall and ended up in the barracks.  He could hear a familiar sound coming from nearby.  The clanking of chess pieces.  It was coming from a nearby room, but he couldn't pinpoint it.  He went door by door, listening intently.  Finally, he spotted shadows beneath the door frames, signaling him that someone was in the room of the door he stood behind.  This room belonged to a new crew member.  He could tell because the name tag was still blank.  Instinctively, he knocked, and waited a brief moment for someone to acknowledge his presence.  

 

 

[hr]

 

 

Takeo

 

A knock came from the door, causing Takeo to turn his head.  "How rude," he said aloud.  "I was hoping we wouldn't be disturbed.  Excuse me," he said getting to his feet.  Opening the door, Zalwara stood before him.

 

"What is it Zalwara?  We were just about to start a game," Takeo said standing slightly to the left, so that Zalwara could see the chess board, and Takeo's opponent.

 

"Surely you aren't harassing our new members," Zalwara replied.  "Forgive my intrusion, but I have news.  Vital news."  Takeo excused himself again, stepping outside of the room and closing the door behind him.  Zalwara leaned in, and gave Takeo his own, personal suspicions.  Takeo chuckled at first, but he could understand Zalwara's concern.  "Perceptive as always, I see," Takeo said opening the door again, but standing in the doorway now.  "You need to be careful, Zalwara.  We mustn't jump to conclusions, or make rash decisions.  You more so than anyone else aboard my ship," he said sternly.

 

Zalwara scoffed.  "You think me rash?  How odd.  I've been your ally for some time, Takeo," he said harshly.  "You know me very well.  I've never acted without just cause.  Yet you throw claims of rash decision at me.  I don't know if you're attempting to show your girth before this woman, but I will let this go.  No need to be locked away for rash decision making."  Zalwara began to walk away.

 

"Zalwara!" Takeo barked.  He sighed.  "Zalwara, you misunderstand.  I am concerned that you seek a premature battle.  While I understand your thirst for blood, I would like to be sure you are correct.  I will further investigate the matters you've submitted to me.  But I am asking you--not out of rank, but out of respect--not to act."

 

Zalwara had stopped in the middle of the corridor, when Takeo yelled.  He managed to keep his cool,  listening to Takeo's long winded reply.  After Takeo was finished, Zalwara nodded, before leaving with, "As you wish."  Making his way back to the main deck, Zalwara disappeared from sight.

 

Takeo turned back to the chess board, closing the door behind him and returned to his seat.  "I do apologize," he said to the occupant across from him.  "It seems Zalwara had some rather serious concerns.  But without sources to back up his claims, I've nothing to go on."  Takeo took a deep breath, and let out a relaxed sigh, as his attention returned to the game a hand.

 

He made the opening move, sticking out a pawn.

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“This is all the data you recieved, correct? Mhmm... yes, thank you that will be all.”


Captain Thomas Renner hung up his phone and began to pour over the data transmission from Scarface1 for the third consecutive time, cross checking all of the available parameters of the transmission with just about every database he had security clearance for, as well as a couple of alternative channels. Of course, his efforts proved fruitless, and he sat back in his chair, finally looking up from his computer and looking around his office. In the few hours since the TF Forward Fleet had been sighted, he’d been constantly relaying messages back and forth between high command and his fellow officers, trying to coordinate an effective strategy to counter whatever this new enemy unit was while still stopping the fleet’s advance. while situations like this came up fairly regularly, it was especially stressful for Thomas.


Technically speaking, he was the commanding officer of TRAP. He gave their orders, ordered their resupplies, and generally took care of making sure the unit was kept at peak efficiency. As of late, however, his opinions had been overruled more and more and he’d mostly been relegated to simply passing down orders from high command, including the sortie order that ultimately resulted in Lauren Vega’s disappearance. Since that time, it had been all he could do to put off deploying the unit again. He knew full well that morale was low, and forcing TRAP to deploy with a pilot who was barely trained was very dangerous. Furthermore, despite the fact that TRAP’s existence was classified, he also knew that sooner or later Terra Firma would figure out that SAF was indeed deploying a dedicated tactical squad of Synchro Frames, and that they would then take steps to set up appropriate countermeasures. Worst case, Terra Firma might very well create their own version of TRAP, and judging by the performance of just one enemy SF in battle against them, facing an entire squad would be a terrifying prospect. In short, he knew that the strategic advantage that TRAP’s existence provided was a finite resource, and he wanted to avoid deploying them again for as long as possible, at the very least until Leo Vega was brought up to speed.


Thomas’s train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone once again.


“Hello? Yes, Admiral, I received all of the relevant data.” He paused, allowing the officer on the other end to speak. “Yes, I’m aware of the numerical and tactical disadvantage that the taskforce is up against, but deploying them now while they’re at half their number is not a sound-” He was interrupted, and pulled the receiver away from his ear as the admiral raised his voice on the other line. “Yes, sir. i understand…” Thomas hung up the phone and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. it seemed there was no avoiding it this time. He buzzed his secretary.


“Tracey, get me Decker. We’re deploying TRAP to assist the Atlantic task force.”

 

---

 

 

Drayden’s wingman was just about finished changer her clothes before she heard knocking on her door. Increasing her pace, she was just about finished buttoning up her dress uniform before the Admiral himself entered her room. A look of surprise quickly crossed her face as the Admiral, without saying much of anything, set up a chessboard on the table in the center of her room, and pulled up a chair.
 

"Come.  Let's get to know each other better,"


She gulped audibly before regaining her composure, remembering to  salute her superior officer as she should have when he entered and hastily doing so before taking a seat across from him. Before she could do anything else, however, there was another knock on the door.


"How rude, I was hoping we wouldn't be disturbed.  Excuse me," With that, the Admiral stood and answered the door, opening to reveal another man she didn’t recognize. "What is it Zalwara?  We were just about to start a game,"


"Surely you aren't harassing our new members. Forgive my intrusion, but I have news.  Vital news."


With that, the admiral stood, walking into the hallway and shutting the door behind him. She remained seated, expecting the admiral to return once their conversation was over. The other man, she surmised, must have been Vice Admiral Zalawara Adachi, Terra Firma’s highest ranking pilot and  a man she’d heard many things about. After hearing some muffled, but apparently heated words from outside, the admiral returned and sat back down.


"I do apologize, It seems Zalwara had some rather serious concerns.  But without sources to back up his claims, I've nothing to go on."


Without saying anything further, the admiral made the customary first move, moving a central white pawn forward two spaces on the board. Before making her move, drayden’s wingman spoke back to him. “I do hope its nothing too pressing, sir.” she said, as politely as she could. A very slight giggle escaped her as she moved her pawn in response. “I used to play this game often with my younger brother, when we were kids, though i was never very good.” she smiled, then her tone became more formal again. “Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself, sir. I’m Lieutenant J.G. Lauren Vega of Shark Squad. Its a pleasure to meet you like this.” 

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