HG: TRTW Act One - The Gathering Storm

[rhoenix]

Looking apologetic to Oiku, Gunnar looked a little sheepish. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm also sorry for scaring you like I did with the first gear rifle firing. I hope it didn't shock you too badly."

Looking at Adrien and Alex both leaving, Gunnar looked a little wistful - but today was Testing Day - his place was here, with the techs. Tonight, his place would be alongside the other three pilots, on a mission.

[Hotfoot]

Oiku nodded, "Ah, thank you, Gunnar. I wish you good luck on test, your Go-Ki help you." She smiled slightly as she went to join the other techs, donning her equipment. Her reference to Go-Ki, an arboreal lizard with several primate-like qualities, was not overly new. Oiku had given each of the people in the crew nicknames based on the Terra Novan Zodiac, which adapted local animals shortly after colonization.

Monza started rattling off numbers, figures, and jobs. "...and I want Oiku to go out and touch up the paint jobs on the Barnaby and the Longrunner. Maybe another time we can get a little creative, but we want good camo patterns. Refer to the templates I've put on the local network. As for everyone else, duty roster is in the usual place on the network, ask me if there are any questions. Janos wants us ready to move by mid-day, so get things in order. Kane, that means you. Get that damn toolbox stowed, I don't want a repeat of you complaining you can't find your screwdriver and then spending fifteen minutes with an old shell casing. We don't have that kind of time to waste."

Kane was about to respond without thinking, but managed to catch himself before the edge. "Yes chief, I'll get on it."

"Right then. Gunnar, check your assignments and get to it. I'll be around to check on you in a little bit."

The assignment on the local network was considerably more complex than usual assignments. Several jobs one after the other with little continuity between them, including one job looking in a nearby scrap heap for a set of parts.

[Cynical Cat]

Marcus smiled as he watched the techs treat Gunnar like a cute, but somewhat obnoxious puppy. He dialed Diane's number. "Hey babe, it's me. Apparently I'm leaving soon to earn my money by shooting some guys who really, really deserve it. How does lunch sound when I get back? In a week or so?"

[Cynical Cat]

"No, not Weird But Tasty. I promise. I just promised. Some place very nice. If it's not I'll skin Adrian alive. Yes, about a week. Only if I get killed. Have you seen the way Alex fights? One look at that boy coming at them and nobody will bother shooting at me. Yes, I'll be careful. Because that's the way things turned out with my life and these vermin need to die. Right. See you in a week. Bye."

[rhoenix]

Gunnar had had a very trying time.

He'd managed to, after rooting through the trash heap for more than 30 minutes, find the part he'd needed. He'd only had to wash and sandpaper it a few times. He was able to figure out what was causing the problem on the Longrunner, but was unable to fix it the first time.

Worse yet, he'd managed to detect a cunningly-hidden trap in the nick of time, but he'd managed to set it off, spraying him in the face for his troubles. Though he now stank terribly and his face and neck were covered in a vile-looking (and smelling) liquid, he'd managed to wipe his face off, and try again. Reaching down to wipe the sweat off of his face, he'd accidentally touched one of the main engine leads to the crew compartment, knocking him back about fifteen feet, and caused the crew compartment of the Longrunner some catastrophic damage.

Painfully sitting up after a moment, he looked at the now-smoldering Longrunner, blinked at the change in events, and shook his head. Slowly getting to his feet, his shoulders slumped as he looked at the damage.

Grabbing the fire extinguisher, he put out the fire and prevented it from getting worse - but still, he didn't exactly feel confident about how things went today.

"Shit," he said under his breath, looking almost morose.

[Marcao]

At roughly the same time that Gunnar was struggling with a fire extinguisher and struggling with the new odor which seemed to cling to his very pores, He was exiting the shower and preparing for a nice nap. Unlike many in Khayr Ad-Din he had access to an honest to god water shower that fulfilled his expectations and met his needs in the badland city. The scent of wild Ashanti orchids drifted over his bedroom and he sighed as the memories of his home city rose to the surface of his mind.

He shook his head and laid down atop his bed, the towel wrapped around his waist as he reached out for the remote control to a television mounted on the wall opposite his bed. He turned on the television and settled on watching the news. It did not take long for the heightened tension between North and South to become the central focus of the discussion. After roughly ten minutes of watching the program he shut it down.

"It is as if they don't see the train wreck that is about to come." He said to himself, his eyes focusing on the ceiling of his bedroom. "I hope you are pleased Mr. Hutchinson, your followers in your name will start a war that no one is in a position to win."

He was realistic about the chances of the Republic. A clash between the North and South would have no real winner in the short term, The MILICIA was larger than the GUARD but it was more poorly trained. In the end, the losers would be everyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.

"It just goes to show you. The only way there will be peace in this planet is when one alliance ceases to exist." He whispered. Yes, that had the ring of truth to it. If he had his way, if his wishes were realized it was the North that would burn. They were afterall an inferior people.

It was with that thought in mind that he drifted to sleep.

[Cynical Cat]

If asked, Marcus would have said that the North's religious nutjobs and bigots should burn in the same hell as the South's government. Since no one was asking he angrily paced his room as the news played and then settled down to fitfully playing "Star Destroyer", a vintage 23rd Century capital ship combat game based on a venerated science fiction franchise. As the shattered remains of Assault Frigates and Corellian Gunships drifted passed the of the Tector class Star Destroyer Invincible he felt some of the stress leave his body.

[frigidmagi]

Alex, which according to some could do has an example of a Northern Religious Nutjob, wasn't watching the news. He had finished packing and was reading the Khodaverdia which was the holy book of the Sorrento Revision the religion of said Northern Religious Nutjobs. He was at the moment concentrating on the first part of the book, the Teachings. The second part filled with various tales about the Prophet and others was honestly more interesting but the teachings were more important.

He was almost done with his chapter and was feeling a bit hungry. He had tried Werid but Tasty on Marcus' urging on his first week with the company and wanted to try it again. Maybe it would be smarter to simply eat an MRE? He mulled over that for a bit as he finished up the chapter and picked up his bag. He would stow it in the gear and figure things from there he decided.

He headed back into the Gear Bay.

[Hotfoot]

Monza rushed in shortly after the electrical fire, wincing at the damage done to the Longrunner. "Prophet save us, Gunnar, it wasn't THAT hard!" She sighed, shaking her head. "Go wash your stink off, then get back here and help us fix this mess up. If we're lucky, we'll get it back online before Janos wants to leave."

The repairs were long, but not outside of the crew's skill. The damage to the structure was tedious, but ultimately simple to patch up. Throughout the entire process, Monza kept a close eye on Gunnar, making sure that he didn't screw up again, careful to stop him before he did anything else that might blow up in his face.

Several hours later, Janos returned with a fairly large truck full of supplies, riding in the passenger seat. Spare parts, food, water, and of course, some fuel. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'll have my boys load it up with their Gears," Janos checked his personal assistant for the time and nodded. "Not bad, time enough to get it all loaded right before mid-day nap, then we can get started. How are the checks coming Monza?"

Monza sighed, wiping sweat from her brow. "We can leave after the nap, Mr. Capac, but I'd like an hour to just double check some things before we get on our way.

[Cynical Cat]

Marcus was whistling as he checked his combat and survival equipment one last time and then repacking it. "There's scum, there's dirty scum, and then there is bandit scum," he said cheerfully. "Killing the last is good for your pocket book and your karma." He finished with the repacking and loading his stuff and climbed up to Fafnir's cockpit.

He rubbed the armour on the front of the cockpit. "North, South, they're both fucked up, but bandits do nothing but fuck up other people's lives. Worthless thieving, raping, murdering dawgs. A quick trip to the Northern hell or wherever the fuck worthless sons of bitches end up is exactly what they deserve."

[rhoenix]

Looking somewhat surly and forlorn, Gunnar helped Monza and the others repair the Longrunner, and with other duties. He was glad that all of his survival and trip gear was already stowed away in his Gear - he wasn't sure he'd have the time if he'd left it until tonight.

Even so, the trip would be almost therapeutic after today's test - he looked forward to it now. Especially now.

[frigidmagi]

Alex entered the hanger and say Gunnar packing. He went to his mech and stowed his gear.

"Hey, how did it go?" Alex asked innocently.

[rhoenix]

"Bad," said Gunnar, somewhat quietly. Then, he caught himself while rolling his eyes, and turned towards Alex with a sigh. "Not very well. I'll be surprised if they let me in here with a bribe next time."

As he was re-adjusting the last of his gear within his Gear, it suddenly hit him just how much he was looking forward to the mission. It would be a great way to blow off some steam.

[Marcao]

The entire ritual that surrounded his preparations for taking Fenrir out on a mission had remained relatively unchanged since his time in the Republican Army. The fact that he was going into the badlands only made the preparations even more important. The sands were unforgiving and would kill a Southerner just as easily as they would a Northerner. He checked his survival equipment, slithered into a desert suit with water reclamation capability and went over his mental checklist step by step. The process was slow and measured taking no less than ten minutes before he was satisfied that he had packed everything he could conceivably need and pack.

He offered no prayers to a higher power as he finished. It was not his way. He did not believe in such things. He believed in human will, courage and training. He was a superior pilot as he was a superior human. Republicans had been forged in the fires of conflict and duty, Republicans understood what it took to become the best. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled faintly.

“For the Republic.â€

[frigidmagi]

Alex climbed into the Jag and settled himself. His gear was stowed, he was ready. He looked up right above the hatch, the mark remained, still bright blue against the dull brown of the inner cockpit.

The symbol of the Northern Guard. Home. He reached up and traced it, patted the gear. The symbol of the military that kept the conquering legions of the Republic at bay. That ensured freedom for the North from the corrupt rule of the South. The only place he had ever had a home.

"Home. One day we'll go back home. I promise." He whispered. He settled back down and closed his eyes. Others may chose to place belief in the superiority of themselves or the systems that created them, but Alex had seen where that led. Without higher purpose all fell into darkness and anger.

"Gentle Spirit. I am far from my Home. I am far from my hearth.
I am far from my family.
Cruelty and Hatred have surround me and filled the eyes of others with wanting.
Let me carry light into the darkness. Let me find Hope among the hopeless.
Let my hands and mouth bring action and words that restore Harmony and banish Chaos.
Let truth and honor guide me, let me defend the weak and helpless and not act in hatred in spite.
Forgive me my violence, forgive me my anger. Mamoud help me see, Nathani help me understand." He prayed quietly.

The Jaguar came on line. Alex was ready.

[rhoenix]

Though he was heavily disheartened by the results of today's test, Gunnar nonetheless went through his established routine for making sure his Gear was fully stocked for a mission spanning a few days. He mentally went through his checklist, checking for additional suits for himself, the extra ammo for his Gear's rifle, and making sure both his gear and his Gear's gear were as they should be.

Feeling somewhat dark from the mishaps of earlier today, Gunnar double- and triple-checked each piece, just to be sure.

Once he was done, he got inside his Gear, and began the startup sequence, smiling in spite of himself as all systems came up smoothly, and without a glitch. It may have taken him a good deal of trials and tribulations to get to this point, but he was rather happy with how things were, overall.

Even with that whole messing-up-the-Longrunner thing. He knew he wouldn't be allowed to wrench on it for a while, but to him at this moment, that was fine.

[Cynical Cat]

"You boys finished pledging your allegiance to God or the glorious Southern Republic yet?" asked Marcus as he sent Fafnir marching forward. "I have it on good authority that neither of them approves of bandits and I, the blessed Saint Marcus of the Cashed Paycheck, Legate Maximus of the Republic of One, have outlawed banditry in my latest judicial fatwa. So lets go kick some bandit ass."

[frigidmagi]

"So the Republic of One is a Jeresulemite theocracy?" Alex teased back as the Jag began to move. He checked the ammo readout on the cannon and the pull on the knife. Both were good.

[Cynical Cat]

"No, its a Mechist theocracy," replied Marcus, referencing a homonym of the word "Mecca". "That is, you pray in the direction of my mecha."

[frigidmagi]

"Heh, glad it's such a small republic, otherwise people would get confused which way to pray." Alex replied.

[Cynical Cat]

"Quality over quantity my good man," said Marcus. "Quality over quantity."

[frigidmagi]

"Really? That's very Unsouthern of you, it's almost Northern." Alex said.

[Cynical Cat]

"One, why do you think I'm not in the MILICIA anymore?" said Alex. "They didn't appreciate a good thing when they had it. Quality of for good Southern aristocrats and other high class individuals, not commoners. Two, the North hates quality as well. All that talk about the value of the individual is a just a handjob from your leaders to get reelected or from your clerics to make the masses feel special about consuming the latest in religious opiates."

[frigidmagi]

"Quality for aristocrats basically means there is no quality outside of a small luxury economy driven by minority demands. Two the Northern Guard is all about Quality over Quantity. Three, I'm from the WFP, it's all about clans there man." Snorted Alex.

[Cynical Cat]

"Whatever you say pipe boy," said Marcus. "The Nile is everyone's favorite river."