‘What happened to 621, Walter?’
Aurelia wouldn’t ask right then. Apparently, there was going to be a discussion on the ship, about far more than a silly callsign. She needed to know what a C-Weapon was, although she could guess. ‘C’ always stood for Coral in these instances, after all. She didn’t truly understand why, but Walter did.
Walter knew more about Coral then he let on.
Right then, she simply got to work – helping the Gemini brothers take out the remaining C-Weapons as one of them offered her a repair kit to make sure LEMURES was up and kicking again – and kicking hard.
Something about those red shades certainly inspired her, and she half-wondered if they were real shades, or a vivid hallucination. That was the problem with any good hallucination, though. ‘Shades aren’t real. Just myth. Just hope.’ But of course, a part of her believed in them. Why else name LEMURES, LEMURES?
It haunted her.
Those red shades were going to haunt her, too. She was certain of it, as the last of the C-Weapons exploded in a burst of red miasma. She wanted to ask if anyone else saw it, but she didn’t want to reveal she was well and truly snapping, either. So, she made no comment on it, only turned back to the battered and bruised RLF members, “I think it’s safe to call a transport,” she said, “I’m going to scan the wreckage for signs of life,” it was unlikely…but miracles happened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t defend the STRIDER.”
But she’d help them get out, and she made sure to hang back until the RLF had indeed loaded up onto their transports, and gotten out of there. Then, well, it was time to load into her own transport and get out of the dunes.
Time to let that sense of failure sink in as she sat in the core of LEMURES and pressed her face into her hands.
The red phantoms faded the further she got from the desert, until they weren’t even a whisper, but the red tint didn’t leave her vision as she walked LEMURES to its Loader once she was back in the ship, and once she again ignored the catwalk in favor of climbing down LEMURES, only to look back up at it from the floor.
‘You need a lot of work.’ Not just repair work. That blast had definitely kept the nanobots from recovering LEMURES much. Enough to function, but little else. ‘I need to check how far along RaD is with the frame.’
But a new frame was a topic to consider later, as her gaze found Walter in the hangar. Red tint or not, she still had to speak with him about what happened, so she didn’t wave him off, but approached, “How much coffee is prepared?” they might need a whole pot.
~***~
Rusty could tell that Huntress enjoyed the bite she had of the Takoyaki, and it just made his grin broaden. He would keep the rest to himself, but he suspected she’d get this for herself in the future, as he pulled his tray back to himself, then blinked at the offer, and chuckled. “Fine, fine,” he could argue it, but he leaned forward to take a bite of the shawarma wrap anyways.
It was such a spiced meal, and some couldn’t get it right. Thankfully, this one seemed to have a decent blend of all the spices chosen, and so he hummed appreciatively, and tuned into what Huntress had to say about her living conditions.
He’d nailed it, but that wasn’t really hard, given the options for life on Rubicon-3. “Oh yeah? Xan and Xavie plan to join up with Arquebus?” he hoped not, but he couldn’t imagine much else, unless they wanted to go their rival – but why? Then they’d be fighting their own sister. It seemed the family wasn’t too opposed to her decision, but how could they be?
Ten years of support had to inspire a lot of love.
“Ah, mine? I was raised by my aunt, Nora,” not a lie. The fewer lies, the better. That was always for the best, “my parents died before I could ever know them, so I was raised by my dad’s sister for the most part. It was kind of a community raising, though,” he laughed a bit, “the colony we were a part of was close-knit. A bit too traditional sometimes, but, eh,” he shrugged, sighed, and let his gaze drift. “My aunt’s gone now,” that, sadly, was also true.
Nora passed before she could ever see a free Rubicon-3.
“So I haven’t really been back in a while or thought much about returning,” he shook his head, “it wasn’t at all like this. We struggled a lot for resources. Mars is dying, like Earth.” Like Rubicon. “Most are moving off-planet into satellite facilities, but we were still on the ground. It wasn’t the best sort of living,” he glanced back at her, “I suppose you know a lot about that, though. Nothing seems to grow here – we were lucky we could still grow some things.”
That, of course, was a lie.
On Rubicon-3, his aunt couldn’t grow anything.
Aurelia wouldn’t ask right then. Apparently, there was going to be a discussion on the ship, about far more than a silly callsign. She needed to know what a C-Weapon was, although she could guess. ‘C’ always stood for Coral in these instances, after all. She didn’t truly understand why, but Walter did.
Walter knew more about Coral then he let on.
Right then, she simply got to work – helping the Gemini brothers take out the remaining C-Weapons as one of them offered her a repair kit to make sure LEMURES was up and kicking again – and kicking hard.
Something about those red shades certainly inspired her, and she half-wondered if they were real shades, or a vivid hallucination. That was the problem with any good hallucination, though. ‘Shades aren’t real. Just myth. Just hope.’ But of course, a part of her believed in them. Why else name LEMURES, LEMURES?
It haunted her.
Those red shades were going to haunt her, too. She was certain of it, as the last of the C-Weapons exploded in a burst of red miasma. She wanted to ask if anyone else saw it, but she didn’t want to reveal she was well and truly snapping, either. So, she made no comment on it, only turned back to the battered and bruised RLF members, “I think it’s safe to call a transport,” she said, “I’m going to scan the wreckage for signs of life,” it was unlikely…but miracles happened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t defend the STRIDER.”
But she’d help them get out, and she made sure to hang back until the RLF had indeed loaded up onto their transports, and gotten out of there. Then, well, it was time to load into her own transport and get out of the dunes.
Time to let that sense of failure sink in as she sat in the core of LEMURES and pressed her face into her hands.
The red phantoms faded the further she got from the desert, until they weren’t even a whisper, but the red tint didn’t leave her vision as she walked LEMURES to its Loader once she was back in the ship, and once she again ignored the catwalk in favor of climbing down LEMURES, only to look back up at it from the floor.
‘You need a lot of work.’ Not just repair work. That blast had definitely kept the nanobots from recovering LEMURES much. Enough to function, but little else. ‘I need to check how far along RaD is with the frame.’
But a new frame was a topic to consider later, as her gaze found Walter in the hangar. Red tint or not, she still had to speak with him about what happened, so she didn’t wave him off, but approached, “How much coffee is prepared?” they might need a whole pot.
~***~
Rusty could tell that Huntress enjoyed the bite she had of the Takoyaki, and it just made his grin broaden. He would keep the rest to himself, but he suspected she’d get this for herself in the future, as he pulled his tray back to himself, then blinked at the offer, and chuckled. “Fine, fine,” he could argue it, but he leaned forward to take a bite of the shawarma wrap anyways.
It was such a spiced meal, and some couldn’t get it right. Thankfully, this one seemed to have a decent blend of all the spices chosen, and so he hummed appreciatively, and tuned into what Huntress had to say about her living conditions.
He’d nailed it, but that wasn’t really hard, given the options for life on Rubicon-3. “Oh yeah? Xan and Xavie plan to join up with Arquebus?” he hoped not, but he couldn’t imagine much else, unless they wanted to go their rival – but why? Then they’d be fighting their own sister. It seemed the family wasn’t too opposed to her decision, but how could they be?
Ten years of support had to inspire a lot of love.
“Ah, mine? I was raised by my aunt, Nora,” not a lie. The fewer lies, the better. That was always for the best, “my parents died before I could ever know them, so I was raised by my dad’s sister for the most part. It was kind of a community raising, though,” he laughed a bit, “the colony we were a part of was close-knit. A bit too traditional sometimes, but, eh,” he shrugged, sighed, and let his gaze drift. “My aunt’s gone now,” that, sadly, was also true.
Nora passed before she could ever see a free Rubicon-3.
“So I haven’t really been back in a while or thought much about returning,” he shook his head, “it wasn’t at all like this. We struggled a lot for resources. Mars is dying, like Earth.” Like Rubicon. “Most are moving off-planet into satellite facilities, but we were still on the ground. It wasn’t the best sort of living,” he glanced back at her, “I suppose you know a lot about that, though. Nothing seems to grow here – we were lucky we could still grow some things.”
That, of course, was a lie.
On Rubicon-3, his aunt couldn’t grow anything.