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Chapter Five: A Show of Hands

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Toph carefully guides her Ajax into the gaping maw of the docking bay, keeping watch on the signals from the landing guide. Once her gear touches down on the deck and she rolls into place, she kills the engine and locks everything down. These people saved them, but they are still an unknown factor and a bit of security is still warranted.

With an aching body, she climbs out of the cockpit and looks around at the damage on her battered Cookie Monster. Running her hand over the blast marks, she thinks, Ouch! Those were some pretty bad hits. You did good to get me through the fight, baby. Now, I need to get some repairs and rearmed. And food. And sleep. Much more sleep.

Toph then turns back to face the strangers and pulls her helmet off, shaking sweaty hair out of her face. Stepping up next to Mario, she places her hand on his shoulder. In a calm voice that hides her own anxiety about their saviors' identities, she says, "I am Second Lieutenant Toph Kirin, of the TASC, also of the Wild Cards Squadron out of Eglin Base. Please let me extend my thanks to you for giving us a place to touch down. Things were getting a bit harry there, as we were all wondering how we were going to get our ground-pounder home without taking a swim."

She turns her head to look over at Elinor, Cera and Mack, waiting for them to step up and say 'hello'. After all, the Wild Cards are Mack's squadron; she will need to be the one to be the voice of the team when dealing with these strangers.
Currently in Helicopter mode

Toph's/Muppet's Ajax munitions:
2 / 15 Mini Fragmentation 5d6 MDC
0 / 15 Plasma/Heat 1d6x10 MDC
and 24 / 30 HEAP 1d4x10 MDC

Muppet's Ajax (170 / 400 M.D.C.)

Number of Attacks: 8
Strike: +12
Parry: +13
Dodge: +14/+18 to Auto Dodge While Flying
Roll: +7
Initiative: +4
Critical Strike on a Natural 18-20
Action Points: 8 +3
 
Once Mario and his tank were secure upon the solid deck of the Broadsword, Elinor let out a short sigh of relief and then paused to admire the hangar bay around them. Whoever (and whatever) these people were, they sure knew how to build a starship! And how to make a pilot feel secure, what with the competence with which they'd guided all five of them in here safely. After exiting with Cera, Elinor took off her own helmet and ran a hand through her hair, then joined the rest of the Wild Cards, her admiration of their hosts' ship still plain on her face as she looked around.

"Second Lieutenant Elinor Hall, TASC, Eglin Base, Army of the Southern Cross," she echoed with her squadmates. Introductions were only polite.
 
A Show of Hands

Cera slipped off her helmet and pushed her tidy brown braid off of her shoulder. "Leader Mack... we have made history!"

Shirley shook her head. "History, huh? Space-chick, I'd feel a lot better if we knew the details. When it comes to the big picture, we are so in the dark."

"I will explain when you deem the time is right." Cera eyed Shirley curiously. "'Space-chick?'"

Looking about, he takes in the vast hangar bay with interest before turning to look at the deck hands, instinctively looking for some kind of rank insignia.

The three Broadsword crew members that had guided the Wild Cards in had solid gold markings and lettering upon their chests and helmets. Close-up, you could see proud-looking sporty lettering in the same style on the advanced destroid that went down the outside of one leg reading "Super Tomahawk." It read: Broadsword - Flight Deck Crew. Gold numbering in four digits could be seen across the chest where one's name-plate might be. Otherwise, their mega-suits were stark white.

A young woman's voice came over the bay speakers. It was a calm, controlled voice that seemed to inspire the same. "All hands," the voice said, "prepare to dive in T-minus 30 seconds."

"And I'm Lt. Shirley Mackenzie, Wild Cards Squadron Leader..."

Just then, Mack's introduction was interrupted by the same young woman's voice over the intercoms. But this time, she repeated the same word three times. It echoed throughout the bay loud and clear.

"Dive... Dive... Dive..."

Before the message completed, the three gold-clad crew members quietly herded the Wild Cards together and partly surrounded you. Linking arms, they formed, if seen from above, a square shape around you with one spot missing. In tandem, the trio touched their left forearms as you had seen Sam do. Then they looked down at their feet. It seemed they could not move from the knees down. Your respective backgrounds and ASC training knew what this was - their feet were magnetized to the ship's hull. They were effectively immoveable.

Looking nearby your battered mecha, you saw "Spaceman Sam." "He" was motioning for Iris to flatten her tall body down as far as she would go while anchoring both of her pincers to a solid-looking bar attached to the hull of the Broadsword. Iris complied without complaint and Spaceman Sam rushed over to finish the square. With the Wild Cards grouped up, the crew members stayed protectively close to you as if ready to shield you from some unseen danger.

Suddenly, the entire ship lurched and shuddered as if it had struck something!

In a normal space-faring vessel, every tool, machine, weapon, and item that was not secured would have rattled or slid noisily, but not here. The shaking of the ship rocked your sense of balance, but the crew mates were there to hold onto. They did not move a single inch. Even your mecha hardly moved at all.

"Stabilization complete." The calm voice over the intercom stated. "Resume normal duties. All non-essential personnel report to Bravo Bay." With that, the silent crew members made certain each of you was in an upright, normal-looking fashion before stepping back. Iris also resumed her normal, upright position.

And then an even stranger thing took place. More crew mates began to arrive in the bay. Some wore red-highlighted space-suits. Some blue. There were green and brown and in about six cases, all matte-black. In minutes, the Wild Cards found themselves in a bay full of the odd starship's crew. They lined up in perfect drill formation each standing at attention toward you. Looking at the large, orderly crowd, you believed you could bet you were now outnumbered by about 10 to 1. They all faced you. Spaceman Sam was at their lead. They all stopped moving and watched you for a long, silent moment.

Then Spaceman Sam stepped forward. He moved into attention stance and raised his hand in a steely salute to all of you. Behind him, every last crew mate did the exact same. You were being saluted by every crew mate they could spare.

Spaceman Sam's hands reached up slowly toward his helmet. One by one, he disengaged the locks attaching the helmet to the mega-suit. Unlike your ASC-issued suits, there was no decompression or hissing of escaping gasses. In fact, in the entire bay, only the sounds of the locks freeing up could be heard. Sam placed both hands on his helmet and lifted it up. Sam had no head. There was nothing there at all.

Sam slowly bowed to you. You could see inside the suit. It was empty.

"Spaceman Sam" remained in this position while every crew member behind "him" did the same motion. The helmets unlocked in a great chorus of clicking sounds. Then the helmets were removed. They were all like Sam. Then the first row of crew mates pulled out small tablets from their hips. Each flashed a letter. The letters formed a message you could read with ease.

"WELCOME TRAVERSERS. WE ARE THE BROADSWORD."

Cera witnessed this and broke into a satisfied smile.
 
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Toph looks at the assembled empty but somehow still mobile space suits with amazement. It takes real effort to close her mouth as she stands there, gaping. It takes another moment to sink in that these 'people' know that they are Traversers. "Um, thank you, Sam, for your help in getting us out of there alive and in one piece." Her heart suddenly sinks as she remembers that no all of them made it out: Booty died on that ship. "Most of us made it out, at least. We'll have to raise a glass up in memory of Booty when we are able. At least we were able to avenge his death in a very spectacular way."

The pink haired woman then looks about, and asks, "We will need to check in with the Colonel, but before we do, I'm sure he will have a thousand questions about the Broadsword and her crew, along with everything that happened on that Zentraedi ship. Um, Sam? Are there any people on this ship, or is all of the crew of the Broadsword suits like yourself? I know that someone was speaking, and asking questions and getting answers in Morse code will slow things down a bit."
 
He looks around inside the hangar bay, curious to see what kinds of mecha or aircraft are in here besides the ones of the Wild Cards and Sam's Super Tomahawk.

When the assembled crew of the Broadsword pulls their hat trick to show inside them, Mario joins Toph in gaping at the empty suits that are still up and walking about, then the mechanic in his head gives him a kick. Got to be some sort of robot built into the suits of armor. Cool trick! I'd love to see the hardware used to make this work!

"Wow. That's . . . amazing."
 
He looks around inside the hangar bay, curious to see what kinds of mecha or aircraft are in here besides the ones of the Wild Cards and Sam's Super Tomahawk.

Yours were the only mecha in the bay. There were also no vehicles to be found. Otherwise, only some tall, metal crate-like storage units filled one corner of Bravo Bay. It seemed every precaution had been taken to give you all the room you needed, including lights, landing space, and a very reasonable lack of obstructions. Perhaps this was in case you had a faulty landing - the less you crashed into, the better, especially inside an enclosed hangar of a starship. There were two mecha-sized doors on either side of the hangar bay likely leading into each of the other bays attached to this one. There was also a large lift with railing similar to a freight elevator. A handful of small human-sized double-doors were fitted into the walls.

"Most of us made it out, at least. We'll have to raise a glass up in memory of Booty when we are able. At least we were able to avenge his death in a very spectacular way."

Spaceman Sam and the rest of the multi-colored crew righted themselves and replaced their helmets in unison. When Toph mentioned Sgt. Booty, every head in the crew lowered as if in sorrow.

"We will need to check in with the Colonel, but before we do, I'm sure he will have a thousand questions about the Broadsword and her crew, along with everything that happened on that Zentraedi ship. Um, Sam? Are there any people on this ship, or is all of the crew of the Broadsword suits like yourself? I know that someone was speaking, and asking questions and getting answers in Morse code will slow things down a bit."

Sam approached Toph and Mack, a black, high-tech tablet in each of "his" hands. He displayed them to all of you as the previous words disappeared, replaced with a new message.

It read: "TRAVERSERS. WE CAN CONTACT COL. SHARP WITH A MESSAGE THAT YOU PROVIDE. BRIG. GEN. STEELE AND HIS ALLIES MUST NOT LEARN OF THE BROADSWORD. SAY 'MESSAGE READY' TO CONTINUE.

COL. H. SHARP, PROF. A. STEIN, DR. H. YASHIDA, ENG. ASST. R. BOOTY ARE WELCOME TO BOARD. IF THIS OFFER IS ACCEPTED, WE WILL PROVIDE DETAILS AND TRANSPORTATION.

CURRENT ACTIVE CREW OF THE BROADSWORD CONSIST OF POWERED SUITS. THE INTERCOM VOICE IS A COMPUTER SIMULATION MEANT TO BRING LIVING CREW AND GUESTS COMFORT. ONE ELEMENT OF MANY.

YOU APPEAR IN NEED OF REST AND NOURISHMENT. WE CAN PROVIDE THIS."

The screens of the twin tablets flashed. Colorful, super-high-quality digital video of pristine showers with 5 high-pressure shower-heads shooting steaming streams and the sounds of rushing water came to life. This was followed by pictures of military-grade serving dishes filled with M.R.E.-style foods and drinks prepared and also steaming. It looked like breakfast was either spaghetti or beef stew accompanied by corn, rice, mixed fruit, or mashed potatoes followed up by crackers, bread, cookies, pound cakes, M&Ms, Skittles, and Tootsie Rolls.

Right then, someone's stomach in the Wild Cards growled so loudly it could have been mistaken for Godzilla.

"IN ADDITION, WE CAN ASSIST YOU WITH THE MAINTENANCE AND REPAIR OF YOUR GEAR. DO YOU ACCEPT?"

Spaceman Sam offered up the tablets to you, presumably as a communications device to borrow.

Mack glanced down at her mega-suit, which like the rest of you she had inhabited for now over 20 hours, and then took a cautious look at each of you. She took a cautious sniff of your party and grimaced fiercely. There were poop demons in Hell that would have fainted at the corrosive smell of each of you (with no saving throw allowed).

"We accept." Mack closed her eyes and nodded gratefully. "But why those four people? I don't get it. How do you know about them anyway?"

From behind Spaceman Sam, a little four-footed mechanical creature strutted up with his head held high. MechaKitten purred in cat contentment. The message changed.

"ALL THAT SPACEMAN SAM AND MECHAKITTEN HAVE WITNESSED IS KNOWN TO THE BROADSWORD. THE AFOREMENTIONED ARE TRAVERSERS OR ALLIES OF TRAVERSERS. WE WOULD ASK FOR THEIR AID. AND FOR YOURS."

"So... basically, you've seen everything?"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

"So, uhhh, what kind of aid?"

"TO SAVE THE PLANET EARTH FROM ALIEN INVASION."

Shirley slowly recoiled. That was one surprise too many for a lady who had yet to have breakfast. "Uhhh... we should discuss this after the shower and food, yeah?"

Spaceman Sam slowly nodded and picked up the very pleased MechaKitten, placing him on his shoulder. With that, the group of crew members began to slowly walk away in orderly groups. One of these, a spacesuit with womanly features and red colorings and lettering upon her breast, accompanied you. Each of the "crew members" moved a little strangely, but close enough to pass for a human being. Spaceman Sam showed you to a freight elevator, massive and wide. This, you mounted. With the sound of smooth mechanical gears, you lifted up off the deck and up into the belly of the Broadsword.

As you rose, Mack looked down on your mecha and sighed. Then she turned to each of you. "O.K., team. Let's join heads here. Just what kind of message do you recommend we send? Do we want to offer the others to join us? Speak your minds." Mack pointed at Mario. ""Mario? You're our comm guy. When we're done with this conversation, I want you to put together a message for Col. Sharp that in no way includes any mention of the Broadsword or our location and give it to me. I'll approve it and give it to Sam. Got it?"

Meanwhile, Cera grabbed the railing and waved down at Iris. Iris looked up and waved a pincer back. The incomplete Ura-Meltrandi Auxiliary Specialist thought and felt over the Polyphonic Nexus. "Unit One. Remain here and report any abnormalities."

"With pleasure, soldier-savior of my people!"

"Report your protein levels?"

"Filled, Auxiliary Specialist! This One had the presence of mind to feed prior to disembarking the enemy ship!"

Cera sighed in relief and smiled briefly. "Your kind always did think ahead!"

Iris closed her green eyes and seemed to beam in happiness at the compliment.

Then Cera turned to you. Her red-brown eyes made her seem a little more alien than usual, or perhaps it was just the strange tilt of her head and that stare that made one feel like they were in the sights of something dangerous. But Cera was just being Cera. She seemed to mean nothing by it. Rubbing one hand over the shoulder of her black bodysuit, she took a deep breath.

"One thing is clear, Wild Cards - we have much to discuss and decide..."
 
Before heading off to the elevator, Mario goes over to lay a thankful hand upon the hull of his hover tank. He takes a moment of quiet reflection as he sees all of the damage done, and nods, giving the tank a quiet, "Thanks for everything. Don't worry; we'll get you back up to full fighting form in no time." With one last affectionate pat on the armor, he turns to the deck crew.

"Take good care of my ride, would you? She kept me safe in the middle of that ship, and I want to make sure she's back up and running smooth in no time!" He gives them a quick thumbs-up and a grin. "If you have any questions about her systems, come and get me."

He goes over to stand a respectful distance from the officers and quietly listens and reads the back and forth between the Wild Cards and the crew members of the Broadsword. He looks over at Mack. "Ma'am? Right now, I'm too fried to do much more than give a very basic message to the Colonel on our status. I don't want to put our new allies here in harm's way from the General, but Col. Sharp needs to know that we've made it out and are safe. After that, we can try to come up with some codes or encrypted signals that won't be intercepted by anyone we don't want listening in and give a full report. If there is a new threat to the planet, it needs to get out to the High Command soonest."

As he talks, the tanker can feel his strength fading. "I am in serious need of some chow, a shower and some rack time. After all of that, then I can think clearly."
 
With one last affectionate pat on the armor, he turns to the deck crew.

"Take good care of my ride, would you? She kept me safe in the middle of that ship, and I want to make sure she's back up and running smooth in no time!" He gives them a quick thumbs-up and a grin. "If you have any questions about her systems, come and get me."

Spaceman Sam and his "feminine" counterpart paused. They seemed to look at one another in confusion while the deck crew did the same. Each crew member seemed to have a different pose in body language to express it, but in their own way, they all showed the same basic lack of understanding. Then Spaceman Sam turned a tablet toward Mario.

It read: "ARE YOU REQUESTING REPAIRS AND MAINTENANCE FOR THE ASC VHT-A1 VERITECH?"

* * *​

He looks over at Mack. "Ma'am? Right now, I'm too fried to do much more than give a very basic message to the Colonel on our status...." As he talks, the tanker can feel his strength fading. "I am in serious need of some chow, a shower and some rack time. After all of that, then I can think clearly."

Mack put her hands on her hips. Slowly. "Well, Elinor? Toph? We're all fried, but we still have a duty to perform." Unlike many officers, Mack requested instead of ordered. "Either of you up for it? I can't stand the idea of Col. Sharp waiting for hours just to know if we're alive or not, especially after he and his tankers had our backs on the Zeki Assault Scout."
 
It read: "ARE YOU REQUESTING REPAIRS AND MAINTENANCE FOR THE ASC VHT-A1 VERITECH?"
Upon hearing Mario ask about his tank, Toph steps forward. "Sam, if your people would be so kind, any repairs you can make to all of our damaged mecha would be greatly appreciated, along with any suitable supply of ammo for the gun pods and, if you have them, shells for Mario's big cannon. I know that my Cookie Monster is in a bad state, and I've gone through a healthy chunk of my missiles. I just don't want to end up asking too much of you and your people here, but yes, we will officially ask you for your aid in repairing our mecha."
Mack put her hands on her hips. Slowly. "Well, Elinor? Toph? We're all fried, but we still have a duty to perform." Unlike many officers, Mack requested instead of ordered. "Either of you up for it? I can't stand the idea of Col. Sharp waiting for hours just to know if we're alive or not, especially after he and his tankers had our backs on the Zeki Assault Scout."
Toph lets out a laugh. "Its just like doing my ER rotation in the hospital and we had an industrial explosion and fire swamp us with patients. That was a thirty five hour shift that day, trying to save those lives. If I can handle that, I can stay up a little longer to work out a quick message for the Colonel."
 
Mario nods in agreement with Toph. "Yeah, I need my baby back in top fighting shape. Too many threats out there with those Malcontents, and then there is the notice that there is another challenge on the horizon. Oh, just one more thing that I almost forgot. Keep in mind that this tank was picked by the General for this mission, and there was one big surprise in it already in the form of those two bombs and the shells to fire them. Be cautious, and look out for stuff like tracking devices or other hidden items stashed away. I don't know what he would do to this ship, but if even half of the stories I've heard about him are true, he could be pushed to try and destroy the Broadsword if it is clear that he can't have her for himself."
 
Elinor hadn't realized just how "fried" her own brain was until she suddenly realized Mack was asking her a direct question. The surprise of the Broadsword herself, plus the revelation of her "crew," had sent her mind into a sort of dreamy "what-if" land where it happily pondered these wonders and all the possibilities around them -- until Mack's question brought her sharply back to reality.

"Um. Sorry, ma'am. I'll do my best, but I think Toph's got the quicker mind just now." Elinor looked at Toph and added, "You rough-draft it, and I'll be your second set of eyes to look it over?"
 
Toph nods, doing her best to keep her eyes open. "Got it. I'll jot this down on my datapad, and if everyone is ok with it, we'll transmit it off."

Message Begins:
Team status is as follows: Both Lt. Hall and Lt. Kirin's Veritechs have been damaged, along with Cpl. Zuko's Hover Tank. Lt. Mackenzie's Veritech is undamaged. As you can tell, the Zentraedi ship was successfully destroyed by use of the special rounds left in the Hover Tank.

Only one casualty to report: Cpl Booty was KIA, no body to bring home for proper burial.

We have come across some new potential allies that warn of a future threat to the Earth. We are going to spend some time investigating the information supplied once we have had sufficient time to rest. More details will come shortly.

Lt. Kirin reporting.
 
Elinor looked over the message recorded in the datapad. "Maybe change 'more details will come shortly' to 'more details will come at that time?' So he don't sit by the radio waitin' while we're sleepin' and all."
 
Toph nods. "Good point." She makes the needed edit to the message, then turns to offer it up to Mack. "That should help to put his mind at ease, without compromising our new friends' security. What do you think? Will that do?"
 
Mario nods, and says, "I can offer up some details on the damage for the message, if you'd like. That way, the Colonel will have a better idea of just what we went through."
 
Or... this post brought to you in part by...
"Visitors" by Koto (because I find the title fitting. Don't you? =) )


Upon hearing Mario ask about his tank, Toph steps forward. "Sam, if your people would be so kind, any repairs you can make to all of our damaged mecha would be greatly appreciated, along with any suitable supply of ammo for the gun pods and, if you have them, shells for Mario's big cannon. I know that my Cookie Monster is in a bad state, and I've gone through a healthy chunk of my missiles. I just don't want to end up asking too much of you and your people here, but yes, we will officially ask you for your aid in repairing our mecha."

At this, Spaceman Sam and his "feminine" counterpart turned to each other as if they were two human beings having a brief discussion. There was nothing robotic about their body language; indeed, it seemed as if they were two people chatting and to see them out of earshot would have produced no indication to the otherwise. Sam turned to his crewmate and raised a finger in a polite manner and the crewmate scratched her helmeted dome and shook her head. Then Sam opened his hands and counted on his fingers to three. The crewmate looked at his hands then at his face before resting her chin on her hand. Then she nodded. Spaceman Sam turned to you, activated the tablet, then turned the little shiny screen to face you.

"REQUEST PARTIALLY GRANTED. THERE ARE THE FOLLOWING COMPLICATIONS.
1. THE BROADSWORD IS WITHOUT 105MM SHELLS. HOWEVER, WITH HELP FROM YOU, THIS CAN BE OVERCOME.
2. THE BROADSWORD HAS THE NECESSARY MISSILES TO RELOAD YOUR MECHA. HOWEVER, THESE MISSILES ARE NOT OF ROBOTECH DEFENSE FORCE/ARMY OF SOUTHERN CROSS ORIGIN. IF EGLIN ASC BASE DISCOVERS THIS, THEY MAY INQUIRE. EVENTUALLY, THIS MAY LEAD TO OUR DISCOVERY. OUR DISCOVERY MAY JEOPARDIZE OUR MISSION.
3. ARMOR REPLACEMENT RESOURCES ARE AVAILABLE AND UNTRACEABLE. DIAGNOSTICS HAVE BEGUN ON YOUR MECHA. WE SHALL MAKE YOU AWARE OF ANY DETAILS OF IMPORTANCE, INCLUDING ESTIMATED TIME OF REPAIR.
4. NOTE: RESTORATION OF ARMOR AND PAINT SCHEMES WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY 8 HOURS BARRING ANY FURTHER COMPLICATIONS.

DO YOU AGREE?"

Shirley ran a hand through her tousled black hair. "So, just what kind of help do you need from us to get the tank shells?"

"A MISSION TO A FORMER ROBOTECH DEFENSE FORCE OUTPOST WE HAVE DISCOVERED POSSESSES 105MM AND 120MM SHELLS. WE CANNOT ACCESS THE OUTPOST. YOU MIGHT SUCCEED WHERE WE HAVE NOT."

Shirley sighed. "O.K. That's something to discuss later. You can't give us missiles because that may compromise your.... uh... existence?"

Sam nodded.

Then Sam's counterpart jerked about as if startled. Sam turned toward her as she operated her tablet. She turned it toward you.

"DIAGNOSTIC 14% COMPLETE. AS CORPORAL ZUKO PREDICTED, THERE ARE SURVEILLANCE MONITORS (BUGS) ON EACH OF YOUR MECHA. 48 HAVE BEEN COUNTED THUS FAR."

Cera smashed her fist into her palm. "The ASC forces know we are here?"

"NEGATIVE. COMMUNICATIONS FROM YOUR MECHA WERE JAMMED BY THE SUPER TOMAHAWK'S ECM SUITE PRIOR TO OUR ARRIVAL. THE SURVEILLANCE MONITORS HAVE A 10 MILE RANGE. THE DEVICES CONTINUE TO RECORD BUT ARE RECEIVING NO INFORMATION. WE HAVE CONTROL OVER THESE MACHINES AND CAN DEACTIVATE THEM. YOUR RECOMMENDATION?"

Shirley rolled her eyes and sighed. "Smack me with a surfboard already! Just what do we gotta do to catch a break?" She thought a moment. "O.K. So here's the total situation. We can at least have armor and paint back on our squadron. We can deactivate the bugs. That's all great, but how do we explain that when we return? Maybe it's best we leave them as is and have Eglin do the repairing."

Shirley looked around the freight elevator and fidgeted while Cera watched with a frown while standing at attention. Finally Shirley replied. "O.K., Sam. Leave our mecha alone for the moment."

Mario nods, and says, "I can offer up some details on the damage for the message, if you'd like. That way, the Colonel will have a better idea of just what we went through."

She glanced at Mario and then at Toph with a grin of positive acknowledgement and appreciation. "We've got enough of a message for what we need." Then she turned back to Sam. "Send our message to Colonel Sharp however you can. Whatever happens, keep yourselves safe. Oh," she paused, "and consider your earlier recommendation of allies like Professor Stein just fine by me. Just understand - if I see General Steele onboard this starship anytime soon, I... I just might lose it and scream at him. For a good long hour. Or three."

The freight elevator opened revealing clean, easy-to-move-through corridors, and colored arrows and numbers in the place of written signs - a code of sorts.

Shirley's blue eyes took in the sight. "Am I missing anything?"

In answer, Sam pointed. His tablet read: "THE SHOWERS ARE THIS WAY. FOOD AND DRINK WILL BE PROVIDED AFTERWARD. PLEASE LEAVE YOUR MEGA-SUITS JUST INSIDE THE SHOWERS FOR MAINTENANCE AND REPAIR. FLIGHT SUITS IN YOUR SIZES WILL BE AVAILABLE IN THEIR ABSENCE."

Shirley started walking in the direction Sam indicated. "Don't have to tell me twice. And Sam?" She nodded with the hint of a tired grin. "Thanks..."

Sam and his counterpart both nodded. Moments later, you found yourselves before the sliding superstructure doors to the starship's showers. With a hiss, the doors to Nirvana opened. An ergonomic and economic changing room just large enough for four people stood before the showers, which from your current angle, were out of sight. Sam stood by the showers with the symbol for male while Sam's counterpart did the same by the women's door. It appeared Mario had a shower all to himself - a real treasure, especially for a military enlisted man.

As you paused, Shirley looked to each of you. "Looks like we are finally going to get some downtime! Expect our debriefing during chow time. I'd have it now, but..." She straightened and gestured to all of you, eager to hear you but also eager to wash away the grime and toil of the past 24 hours. "Wild Cards? Anything on your minds you wanna share before we get wet and bubbly?"

Cera looked hesitantly and suspiciously inside. "Leader Mack? What is a shower?"

With a smack and a grimace, Shirley facepalmed and jerked a thumb at the confused Ura-Meltrandi while Sam and his crewmate seemed to chuckle. "Oh for cryin' out... Elinor, take over here! Anybody else have something they want to share? Please?"
 
For a brief moment, the male pig in Mario raises its ugly head at the thought of the ladies getting in the shower together. Then, when Cera asks what a shower is, a part of his mind wants to suggest that he could show her. Dude, as tired as you are, you probably couldn't get it up. Get your mind out of the gutter. He chuckles at himself, glad that the neural nexus is only open to thoughts that the thinker wanted to share.

Once he is in the shower, the tanker allows his mind to wander a bit. A part of him is upset that there are so many 'bugs' on the mecha, as if they were not to be trusted and had to be looked in on. Another part is wondering just what lies next for the Wild Cards, beyond the next forty eight hours, that is. He had not considered what would happen if they showed up with their mecha fully repaired and ready to fight. It was obvious now that it was pointed out by Sam and his compatriots.

How are we going to get back to Eglin without raising any questions on where we were?
 
Following along behind Sam and his female counterpart, Toph is delighted at the sight of the locker room and its attached shower. "Thank you, Sam and company. Come on, ladies. I think that showing Cera what a shower is will be easier than trying to explain it."

Inside, she strips from her megasuit and the underlying flight suit with a bit of a wince as the smell rises up and hits her nose, then pulls out the hair ties that secure her locks under her helmet. Yikes! I'm ripe. Good thing we're cleaning up before we gas out everyone. Toph had dealt with the 'fun' of having a communal bathroom in basic training where she had to shower with others enough to get over any willies she sufferers from being naked in front of other women, so it wasn't any big deal to her to look over at Cera and motioned for the Meltrandi to undress also. "A shower is a delight in every sense of the word. You stand under a hot spray of water, and while using soap to clean yourself, you wash your body and let the hot water soothe your aching body. With a steaming cup of coffee, it is nearly as therapeutic as a six hour nap."

Stepping into the shower itself, Toph turns the water on and adjusts the temperature to be a nice, hot flow over her with a satisfied groan. "Oooooh, this feels so good. You just step in and let the water do its work. Just get the water as hot as you like, unless you want it cold. That is just wrong on so many levels I don't want to even thing about it." Taking a washcloth and the soap, she begins to scrub herself all over to get the layers of sweat and stink off of her.

Once she begins to have her fingers turn all wrinkly, the pink-haired pilot shuts off the water and goes looking for a towel and a clean flight suit.
 
Shirley sighed. "O.K. That's something to discuss later. You can't give us missiles because that may compromise your.... uh... existence?"
"That actually makes sense, ma'am," Elinor volunteered. "If we aren't about to let the general know about the Broadsword, we prob'ly don't want to take on any munitions, repairs, or what-all that'll give it away either."

if I see General Steele onboard this starship anytime soon, I... I just might lose it and scream at him. For a good long hour. Or three."
Elinor grinned tiredly. "You 'n me both, Mack. And won't that do our careers good?"

Cera looked hesitantly and suspiciously inside. "Leader Mack? What is a shower?"

With a smack and a grimace, Shirley facepalmed and jerked a thumb at the confused Ura-Meltrandi while Sam and his crewmate seemed to chuckle. "Oh for cryin' out... Elinor, take over here! Anybody else have something they want to share? Please?"
Elinor shook her head, smiling. Anything else that needed to be discussed could wait until they had brains to discuss it with. She followed the others into the changing room. Toph took over the shower explanation, and did a pretty extensive job of it, too. Elinor didn't have anything to add except specifics. So she led the Meltrandi to one of the multi-shower-headed stalls and pointed out the basics of how to work it, the controls and such, and added, "Mostly there's only one head -- that's this thing here, that the water comes out of -- but Broadsword's got a real fancy setup. Just shout out if you got more questions, I'll be the next stall over." Suiting action to words, she stripped off her own suit, grabbed a towel to hang in easy reach of the shower, and stepped into the bliss of being clean.
 
Mario is quite likely right about not letting the pig inside of him do any talking, especially when his four fellows were proven wolves with Zeki-Zentraedi blood on their fangs. Mario was also correct about being near the end of even his healthy and youthful physical limitations. Though the five warm showerheads and high-grade soap did wonders, his stomach grumbled again and again without shame, and fatigue hung over him like a shroud.

Still, the soothing steam and water and the lack of hostiles shooting at him and his were in themselves a sort of Shangri La - not a thing to go unappreciated by the daring Italian-American. His trusty pen-knife lay beside his towel on a nearby bench.

The same could be said for the female Wild Cards, all of whom seemed enjoyed their shower-time. All except Cera. Cera listened to Toph and watched Elinor in the working of the showers. There were four stalls and hers was the first to go quiet. The Ura-Meltrandi dried herself off and watched as the "female" Broadsword crewmate lifted all three mega-suits and Cera's black "techno body-suit" without assistance and out of the showers for maintenance.

It was easy to see that Cera had seemed to take no thought of lingering in or enjoying the shower, but instead, she appeared to treat it like a duty. To wet, to wash, to rinse, and to dry underneath wall-mounted, automated electronic blow dryers.

And so the Ura-Meltrandi stood naked guarding the front door as another Broadsword crewmate entered in silence. The crewmate carried four unmarked, red and white flight suits along with sporty, matching undergarments, all on magnetic hangers. These "she" hung just outside each stall. Cera quietly examined them with a mixture of military caution and scientific wonder.

Soon, all of the Wild Cards were dressed and gathered outside the showers. Spaceman Sam stood like a statue before posing in a manner that displayed casual inspection of your cleaned-up group, followed by an enthusiastic thumbs-up, given the improvement of your conditions.

Tablet in hand, "he" began to lead you down hypercarbon corridors past unmarked rooms lined with empty bunk-beds and computers, each clean and well-organized as if the Wild Cards were not on some utterly strange starship from only God-knew-where but instead on some veteran-manned submarine.

All the while, Cera's gaze kept traveling toward the cleaned-up Italian-American in your team. Mario was ahead of her as you walked two by two, but as if magnetized, the Ura-Meltrandi kept taking her eyes off of the ship and onto Mario's face. Her own eyes and mouth took on a dreamlike quality as she seemed to lose herself for a brief moment, then snap back to reality. Cera shook her head then silently looked at Elinor, curious as to what she was experiencing, but unwilling to ask at the moment.

Spaceman Sam delivered the Wild Cards into a wide briefing room where five more crewmates stood with large, wide trays full of steaming food and cold-looking drinks. These they set upon the table as Sam made a gesture of welcome. Meanwhile, MechaKitten slurped cream from an attractive mega-damage bowl with his name laser-etched into it.

The cuisine was Italian, at least in the fashion of M.R.E.s, with spaghetti and meatballs, beef ravioli, crackers, wafers, steamed vegetables, Oreo cookies, and tall canisters of cold milk and juice. As much you pleased.

Shirley plopped down in the leading chair, a big smile across her now-clean Californian features. She didn't even say anything - she just dug in.

For long moments, the only sounds were the movements of silverware, plateware, and canisters moving. Oh. And lots of satisfied chewing. They may have only been M.R.E.s, but they were made as well could be, and they tasted great after all you had been through recently.

(Who wants to be the first to break the silence?)
 
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Now that Mario is properly washed, dressed and fed, he looks over at Mack and clears his throat. "Ma'am? I have been thinking . . . We are going to have to come up with a reason for us not to have reported back directly after the Assault Scout blew up. Even without getting any repairs done or ordnance replaced, we are still looking at having those bugs being jammed, and us being out of contact for an extended period of time. Otherwise the presence of this ship might come out before anyone is ready for it."
 
Elinor tried to keep an eye on Cera in the showers, just to be sure she was OK. She didn't seem to be properly enjoying it, which was odd. Then again, maybe Meltrandi didn't enjoy things like that. Well, there'd be time to work on that later. Properly clean, toweled dry, and clothed in the provided flight suit, she joined the others as they walked to the food, trying not to yawn too obviously. Showers were great. Food, once it arrived, would be great. There was still a big ol' "E" on her sleep tank, though.

She made sure to thank Sam and each of the other crew who helped. She still wasn't sure if they were one entity with several bodies, several entities that had their own bodies, several entities that shared several bodies (and possibly thoughts, like a hive mind or something?), or what. But there was nothing to lose by being polite, as her grandma would've said. She thought about the crew as she ate, which two activities completely occupied her attention until Mario spoke up. Then she listened, and thought some more -- this time about what he'd said.

"Well, Sam and his friends, and the Broadsword, assumin' they aren't all the same thing, they said it was OK for us to tell the Colonel about her. Or said he'd be welcome onboard, which I figure is the same thing. So really it's all the others on base we're trying to keep this from. An' he's our lead, we're reportin' direct to him right now, right? So we don't have to tell anyone else, not unless he orders us, and I don't think he's the sort to do that if it's not necessary." Realizing she was heading towards babbling, Elinor shoved another forkload of spaghetti into her mouth while she organized her thoughts better. "Long story short, I figure we can tell whoever asks that we need to report to him first. And then, he can help us figure what to say about it, and when, to who."
 
Toph quietly chews, deep in thought. She finally says, "I can see it from both sides, where we can report it to the Colonel and let him be our buffer between us and the General. In the meantime, I am wondering just where the hell did this ship come from? What additional threat is being posed to the Earth that Sam told us about? What role is the Broadsword going to play in this? Are there more ships like the Broadsword out there, somewhere?"

She buries her face in her hands and lets out a groan. "Oh, man, but I am one tired lady! Even with that short nap we had, I am in need of a few more hours of rack time to get my feet back under me." Toph looks over at Sam, and asks, "Once we've had a chance to get a bit of rest, can we get a tour of this magnificent ship and some answers to these questions?"
 
This scene brought to you by "Left of Center" by Suzanne Vega =)

Partial Lyrics
"On the edge
and off the avenue
and if you want me
you can find me
left of center
wondering about you"


Now that Mario is properly washed, dressed and fed, he looks over at Mack and clears his throat. "Ma'am? I have been thinking . . . We are going to have to come up with a reason for us not to have reported back directly after the Assault Scout blew up. Even without getting any repairs done or ordnance replaced, we are still looking at having those bugs being jammed, and us being out of contact for an extended period of time. Otherwise the presence of this ship might come out before anyone is ready for it."

At first, Shirley was quiet. Just one big mane of beautiful, shoulder-length, curly black hair digging in to her ravioli and crackers. Finally, she stared up from her tray. At first, her Californian blue eyes seemed to blaze at the interruption, but then they softened as the officer in Mack spoke up. She looked and sounded worn and impatient, and knife-edge serious.

"Y'know, it's the whole bugging our mechs thing that torques my jaws. I mean, why in the heck send us on such a half-baked mission if you don't trust us in the first place? Is the general afraid we'll scoot off with his brand-new high-tech Veritech Hover Tank and Ajax?"

Cera seemed in no way tired as she glanced suspiciously at her food. Her fork was raised, but she had not yet eaten a bite. "It is simple. Your 'general' does not trust you. He sent you in to a battle you could not win with antiquated mecha, underpowered guns, and lackluster technology against the most-powerful male Zentraedi in all the galaxy!" Cera looked around the table with pride, her red-brown eyes settling on Toph. "That you destroyed a fully-armed and fresh Beastmaster is a glory you should treasure for as long as you live. Your general cannot take that from you."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't answer what we tell Eglin upon our arrival." Shirley took a long pull of juice and looked at Mario. "I don't have an answer to that one yet. We just had a pair of nuclear explosions, however contained, not far off of the Florida coastline, right? Everybody and their dog probably saw it. By now, A.S.C. and everyone else capable probably all have every resource out there just to try and figure out what in the heck happened. And here we are in the thick of the mystery."

A wide double-door on the far side of the room hissed opened. In walked Iris, her long limbs and body had compacted enough to walk down the starship corridors. As she entered the briefing room, she spread her deadly pincers slowly as if in relief, though she dare not unfurl her rainbow wings for lack of space. "Greetings, Wild Cards!" Her mental voice was cheery and chipper in your minds. "Please excuse This One for being unable to maintain the Polyphonic Nexus while you bathed. This One had to recuperate the proper energies."

Shirley turned toward her waved. "Hey, Big Momma! By that you mean, rest? I hadn't even noticed the nexus was missing!"

"Affirmative, Leader Mack. While you bathed, This One assisted Spaceman Sam with the contents of your meal! We hope your rest is a positive experience!" Iris nodded, her alien eyes glowing a proud and peaceful shade of grassy green. "Self did not mean to intrude. Please continue your conversation."

With a frown, Cera held up a steaming meatball as if it were some enemy. "The contents of my meal are not sufficient! Is there no protein paste anywhere on board?"

"None. This One apologizes." Iris's head lowered. Spaceman Sam bowed in apology

"Hmph!" Cera grumbled but glanced to both Iris and Sam with a look that relayed no apology was necessary. Sam relaxed and Iris returned to sending out her ever-present positive vibes.

Realizing she was heading towards babbling, Elinor shoved another forkload of spaghetti into her mouth while she organized her thoughts better. "Long story short, I figure we can tell whoever asks that we need to report to him first. And then, he can help us figure what to say about it, and when, to who."

Spaceman Sam took the opportunity to approach and hold up his tablet. Brightly-lit words scrolled down its face. "AGREED, LT. HALL. IT IS IMPERATIVE GENERAL STEELE REMAIN UNAWARE OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE BROADSWORD."

Toph quietly chews, deep in thought. She finally says, "I can see it from both sides, where we can report it to the Colonel and let him be our buffer between us and the General. In the meantime, I am wondering just where the hell did this ship come from? What additional threat is being posed to the Earth that Sam told us about? What role is the Broadsword going to play in this? Are there more ships like the Broadsword out there, somewhere?"

She buries her face in her hands and lets out a groan. "Oh, man, but I am one tired lady! Even with that short nap we had, I am in need of a few more hours of rack time to get my feet back under me." Toph looks over at Sam, and asks, "Once we've had a chance to get a bit of rest, can we get a tour of this magnificent ship and some answers to these questions?"

Shirley finished her meal, cleaned her face with a napkin, and gratefully pushed her tray away from her. "Ohhh, much better! Muppet, I get the feeling Colonel Sharp has been acting as a buffer between us and Steele already. As for the ship-related questions, what do you have to say about all that, Sammy?"

For one long moment, Sam did not move in the slightest. Then he seemed to jerk awake. Words scrolled down the tablet. "FIRST, AN ADVISEMENT. WE HAVE DISCOVERED AN ADDITIONAL 24 BUGS ON YOUR MEGA-SUITS. AS BEFORE, THESE ARE BEING JAMMED. THE BROADSWORD REMAINS SUBMERGED IN YELLOW ALERT. CONTINUING ON COURSE."

"More bugs?" Shirley slapped the table. "And the tour?"

"THIS IS ENTIRELY DEPENDENT UPON YOUR INTENTIONS UPON LEAVING THE BROADSWORD. PERHAPS THE LESS YOU KNOW, THE BETTER. THERE IS DANGER. THE WILD CARDS ARE, THROUGH NO FAULT OF YOUR OWN, A THREAT TO YOUR SPECIES ON EARTH."

"Wha? You mind explaining that, Sammy?"

"NOT AT ALL. YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND. THE BROADSWORD'S SOLE MISSION IS TO RESCUE AND RESTORE HUMANITY. THIS CANNOT BE ACHIEVED IF THE BROADSWORD IS DISCOVERED BY ANY FACTION THAT WILL SEEK TO CONTROL OR DESTROY US. UPON YOUR DEPARTURE, YOU TAKE YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF THIS VESSEL WITH YOU. IF YOU ARE INTERROGATED OR THE LIKE, YOU MAY REVEAL THE CONTENTS OF YOUR MEMORIES. THIS LEADS TO OUR DISCOVERY.

"WE REMAIN CONVINCED - IF OUR MISSION IS A FAILURE, HUMANITY MAY WELL FALL."

Cera nodded, her expression stern and unapologetic. "Sam is correct! If the Broadsword falls, the Maelstrom is lost, and your entire species here on your homeworld of Earth will follow into oblivion. Even my War-queen Taniya cannot reverse that state of affairs."

That got Shirley's attention. Big time. The lieutenant straightened in her chair and stared right at Sam and Cera.

While your bodies battled fatigue, the food and drink did provide a surging feeling of energy enough to see the continuation of this conversation. However, when that rush faded, you were likely headed straight for Dreamtime.

This seemed like an excellent time to ask any important questions on your minds.
 
With a frown, Cera held up a steaming meatball as if it were some enemy. "The contents of my meal are not sufficient! Is there no protein paste anywhere on board?"

"None. This One apologizes." Iris's head lowered. Spaceman Sam bowed in apology

"Hmph!" Cera grumbled but glanced to both Iris and Sam with a look that relayed no apology was necessary. Sam relaxed and Iris returned to sending out her ever-present positive vibes.
Elinor couldn't keep from smiling, though she did manage to hide it behind a meatball of her own. "Cera, this is a kind of protein paste. Organic, you might say, or not as processed as you're used to, but it oughta fill your stomach just fine. Look at Toph -- she's half Meltrandi and she handles human food well enough!" Elinor pointed at Toph with her fork.


Cera nodded, her expression stern and unapologetic. "Sam is correct! If the Broadsword falls, the Maelstrom is lost, and your entire species here on your homeworld of Earth will follow into oblivion. Even my War-queen Taniya cannot reverse that state of affairs."
That got Elinor's attention, too. "OK, now, since we've finally got the time for explanations -- just what is the Maelstrom? We've been runnin' around all day without proper info from much of anyone, and I think it's time someone told us what we're doin'. The more we know, the better we'll know how to hide it."
 
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