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File: JbJ.jpg (757 KB, 1348x900)
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>Twitter: https://twitter.com/DiceToTableTop
>Buy Me A Coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/CnaZ3B8yg
>Discord: https://discord.gg/DXsehSp
>Ship Map: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zOUTp1r5-o0kOEbiGgUJPHPCQiPQQ0SLMl2SKNNUrxE/edit?usp=sharing
>Equipment List: Coming soon!

This was the part where you were supposed to have something reassuring to say. To your great regret, however, you weren’t really good at prying open boxes into people’s lives or offering anything that had a semblance to a consistent solution. That’d actually—in all irony—been the one of the troubled looking woman that stood before you (albeit, with a generous helping of sarcasm to go with those nuggets). There’s an uncertainty and a hesitance that creeps from the back of your mind to motion yourself to offer your words … and a weird sense of understanding—empathy—that underlines your approach. It was never easy giving honest advice … especially when it was for someone you cared about as much as Morrigan.

But you try anyway.

‘You can trust them to be tough enough to get by,’ you start, the hesitation creeping as Morrigan looks up at you, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. If you were on a roll, you didn’t know … but you’d started, and finishing was what you had to do, right, wrong or stupid. ‘If they handled themselves well enough after bombardment and almost losing you … I’m sure that they can at least handle some adaptation blues on a new world. I won’t … say that it’s going to be easy for them, but if they’re anything like you, I’d put my money on them acclimatizing themselves.’

Morrigan rubs her chin, looking away as she bites her lip, her expression turning thoughtful.

‘Besides, if we’re within range of the system and out of orders and routine, we can always take a detour so you can drop in,’ you add, ‘I mean … I don’t like place much myself’—and that was putting it mildly—‘but Lokeren’s still one of the best places in Imperial space to get raw materials and parts if we ever come to that. I’m sure that I can come up with an excuse to go over.’

Your ECO snorts, crossing her arms as she turns an amused look in your direction.

‘I don’t think it’ll come down to that,’ she lets out, sounding oddly … defeated. ‘I don’t know if I’m worrying too much or too little with those two. Iona’s a fussy-duddy and I think I’m overdue on apology letters to our parents with how Delta’s coming along.’

Morrigan makes a frustrated noise as she throws back her head.

‘Teen rebellion’s a lot more of a draw when you’re not the one on the end of it, I tell you …’

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at the proclamation. ‘It’s always been the in thing to do for kids, I guess. We’ve all been there.’

She laughs.

And we’ll never go back.
>>
>>2775488
>'I don't know about that, I kind of enjoyed my defining years.' (Nostalgic)
>'I know what it's like to be away from your family. Count on that.' (Understanding)
>'All that being said, why'd you choose Lokeren of all places as your homestead? Aren't there other worlds?' (Pessimistic)
>'So does Morrigan Fisher have a dark past that she's willing to share?' (Pry playfully)
>'About that comm device ...' (Serious)
> 'I'd like to get back to working conditions, Miss Fisher, if that's not too inconvenient?' (Professional)
>Write-In
>>
>>2775493
>>'So does Morrigan Fisher have a dark past that she's willing to share?' (Pry playfully)
>>
hello? am i the only here right now?
>>
>>2775549
any other anons or lurkers?
>>
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'So does Morrigan Fisher have a dark past that she’s willing to share?’

She allows her amusement to be known.

‘You get one question.’

>‘How many boyfriends did you go through before … me?’
>‘I’d actually like to know more about your home world … you have one, right?’
>‘Did you always want to join The Aegis? I know that a lot of kids do, but … not a lot of us decide to follow through.’
>‘I have to ask about your model collection. I just have to.’
>‘I don’t know if this is good timing, but … I’m actually curious your parents. You’ve mentioned them a few times, but you never really talked about them.’
>‘Maybe some other time.’ (Back to work)
>Write-In
>>
>>2775554
>>‘I don’t know if this is good timing, but … I’m actually curious your parents. You’ve mentioned them a few times, but you never really talked about them.’
im feeling lucky, though its probably exhaustion
>>
>>2775554
>ask about her parents
>>
>>2775554
>‘I don’t know if this is good timing, but … I’m actually curious your parents. You’ve mentioned them a few times, but you never really talked about them.’
>>
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‘I don’t know if that’s good timing, but … I’m actually curious about your parents,’ you blurt out, a little more hasty than you wanted your words to sound. ‘You’ve mentioned them a few times I think, but … I don’t think I’ve actually heard you talk about them.’

‘Curious?’

You pause.

‘A little,’ you confess, rubbing the back of your neck as your admission garners a shake of the head from your former counselor, ‘I mean, I know your father has a background in The Aegis, so I kind of surmised that there’s a little … legacy involved there.’

‘You’re close,’ she answers, nodding as the amusement of her tone all but disappears, ‘but my father wasn’t a member of The Aegis. He was an Intelligence Contractor.’

You frown. Then what about all those …

‘I swear I saw him in uniform back at your house.’

Morrigan chuckles. ‘Oh, he was a very good one,’ she muses, nodding in apparent approval. ‘He was never in an official capacity with Imperial forces, but he always gave it his all for the Empire. They couldn’t acknowledge him as a proper member, of course, but … well, when you do things as well as he does, you need some form of acknowledgment on that. The Aegis and The Navy are quite prideful about putting honor on a badge, officially or unofficially. Good thing for him … he did enough for them to at least be recognized that he made the Empire a lot safer.’

‘Sounds like a good man.’

She wears a melancholic smile. ‘The best.’

‘Is he …’

Morrigan bites her lip.

‘He … passed away a week after I was inducted as a pilot,’ she reveals, sounding distant. ‘We buried him on a paradise planet. There’s water … trees … but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s amazing that he had enough time to teach me how to ride a bicycle and then going around doing the Empire’s dirty laundry on the same night. Imagine that: raising a family and playing a role right out of a spy story; you don’t think anyone’d be able to pull it off.’

Morrigan turns to the floor, her expression troubled, her eyes a little dull … and her knuckles as they gripped her elbows. You want to say something: an apology, words of assurance; something to change the mood, but Morrigan seemed … caught in the mood. There’s not quite a sadness in the air, but … a sort of hesitant uncertainty, as if there was more she wanted to say but was unsure of how to say it.

You don’t know how long it takes you to find your voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ you finally manage, actually sounding it. ‘I didn’t mean to—’

‘It’s all right, I’m just,’ she pauses, ‘I think that I kind of … expected it to come. After my mother passed away, things just seemed to … change with him. He came home later, he wasn’t around as much … but he tried, I guess. Parents aren’t saints, after all.’
>>
>>2775625
>‘And your mother?’ (Continue)
>‘No, they’re not.’ (Melancholic agreement)
>‘No, I can’t imagine myself balancing that out, either.’ (Empathic, Respectful)
>‘You miss him?’ (Inquire further)
>‘Back to work, I guess.’ (Divert)
>Write-In
>>
>>2775628
>>‘You miss him?’ (Inquire further)
>>
>>2775628
>‘And your mother?’ (Continue)
>>
>>2775634
>>2775643
Flipping a coin.
>>
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‘And your mother?’

As the words hit air and become sound, you find regret coiling around your liver. Morrigan had already shown you just why she rarely talked about her father … and now here you were, pushing through on the topic of her mother like an insect that didn’t know its wings were alight in flames. You move to take back your words, but the shift of expression—troubled to thoughtful—has you hesitant.

Enough, to, apparently, have her motioning for an answer.

‘I don’t know much about my mother, really,’ Morrigan reveals, pinching the tip of her chin. ‘At least, what she did before she was my mother. My dad said she used to be lounge singer on a Trade House cruise, but I don’t think that that’s the whole story. I never bothered to ask them for the details, but for the most part, she was … strict, more with me than she was with Delta, though. She … passed away when I was still in school. Iona was still a baby then, so she can’t remember her that well, but she was the only one of us that she never raised her boys to. Benefits of being a kid, I guess.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘It took me a while to come to grips with it,’ she continues, ‘but … well, Dad was there to rein everything in and take up as much slack as he could. I was the oldest, so we had to drop straight into a chain of command: he was in charge of all of us, I was responsible for my sisters and Delta had to be there for Iona and Iona had to take care of herself … just your average family for a while. It was harder for Delta to get used to life without Mom than it was for me.’

‘No time to cry?’

You don’t mean for it to sound so abrasive.

If she’s offended by the remark, however, she doesn’t show it.

‘I miss her,’ Morrigan confesses further, ‘but … I think, even at that time, I was more worried about the ones still there than the ones who weren’t. It’s not in me to look back in regret for something I couldn’t have done. I don’t think … I don’t think dwelling on things like that work. Not when there are people relying on you. Not yet, anyway.’

She lets out a tired sigh. True to her word, she looked more troubled than she did sad.

‘Mom was always there to make sure our plates were clean and that we made our beds,’ she goes on, ‘and that we were neat, presentable and didn’t put ourselves to waste. At the end of it all, she taught me a lot about managing myself, managing others … and that if you want people to listen to you, the first thing you had to show was that you were willing to follow through with what you said all the way to the end, wherever you want to go.’

An amused chuckle follows.

‘She always told me it wasn’t about success or failure at the end of the day … but whether you could look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that you did absolutely everything to get there without regret.
>>
>>2775677
>'Right, I ... think we should get back to work.' (Reestablish atmosphere)
>'I think it's a little bit of both, rather one being over the other.'
>'Good advice.'
>'In our line of work, the only thing that matters is success, doesn't it?'
>'Sorry, I didn't mean to ... bring up any bad memories.'
>Write-In
>>
Also, it's a joke image. Don't take it seriously.
>>
>>2775679
>'Good advice.'
>>
>>2775679
>'Right, I ... think we should get back to work.' (Reestablish atmosphere)
>>
>>2775679
>>'Good advice.'
>>
>>2775679
>>'Good advice.'
>>
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You couldn’t disagree with that.

Good advice,’ you concur, giving a small nod of agreement.

To your surprise, you get another snort in return. Morrigan tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she turns her gaze to you, looking somewhere between amused, confused … and in disbelief. By that jumble of emotions, you could tell that she hadn’t expected for you to agree with the point.

You do?

‘It’s good advice,’ you reply, giving a casual shrug. ‘I mean … not not everyone can do everything, if they wanted to. We’re not … gods of a sort; I don’t think even The Emperor can be everywhere at the same time. We’re only human, after all … but we can bite down on our teeth and trudge through the muck like everyone else in the universe to get where we want to. I’m not a big fan of failure, but your mom is right in the sense that, at the end of the day, if you can live with the decisions you made knowing that you made them by your own conviction and will … then you don’t have to wonder about the why and the how of what led you there.’

‘Kind of playing with the semantics there, aren’t you?’

You smile wryly.

‘People are shaped by regrets by default,’ you confide, ‘and I think what your mom was trying to say was that if you do things with honesty and integrity, even if the world judges and condemns ya for it, you’ll at least have that sense of peace with yourself knowing you did what you did on your own terms.’

Morrigan stares at you, her eyes wide.

Then she laughs.

You frown, wondering if you could call in insubordination for this round of mockery (if it was mockery). She clutches her sides, her hair falling over her face as she bends over, the laughter barely suppressed by her raised prosthetic (although not by much; now she just sounded like a squeaking mouse). It takes a few moments for the amusement to subside, and some mental reminders that Morrigan’s amusement was usually a sign that she was comfortable around you. You weren’t about to render that moot at this stage in your relationship.

‘You know,’ she starts suddenly, ‘you’re making my recommendation for you sound like the most sane decision that I ever made as a Guidance Counselor.’

Now it’s your turn to let your amusement be known.

‘Well, considering your track record … it would be, wouldn’t it?’

You’re met with a sudden embrace and a content hum from your ECO, her prosthetic coiling around you as she puts her weight against yours, the strands of her hair tickling your nose. You try to process the sudden show of affection, uncertain of the next course of action.

‘Watch it, Knight-Commander, you’re still a learner …’

She kisses your chin.

And I am the Master.
>>
>>2776158
>'Right, I ... think we should get back to work.' (Reestablish atmosphere)
>'So, you and Sanza were acquainted from way back, weren't you?' (Inquire)
>'Any news from the Star Marshall?' (Rumors)
>'How'd you get your hands on that, anyway?' (Comm device)
>'Do I have to file in our relationship to the Commissar? I think I have to ...' (Worried)
>Write-In
>>
>>2776161
>>'How'd you get your hands on that, anyway?' (Comm device)
>I'd say something about regs, but since you taught them too, I'll skip it.
>>
>>2776161
>Com Device
>>
>>2776165
>>'How'd you get your hands on that, anyway?' (Comm device)

Sounds good +1
>>
>>2776161
>>'How'd you get your hands on that, anyway?' (Comm device)
>>
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You draw yourself back, choosing to focus on a particular aspect that had just about teetered on the edge of being forgotten. Morrigan’s hands slide along your ribs as she mimics your movement, before taking a step back to give you space … and having the decency to look embarrassed at the fact that she had, by her own two hands, enacted a show of affection to you after so many years of flirtatious, sardonic remarks. Her recovery is splendid, however, so you kind of let that tidbit slide.

Those dramas about teacher and student romances never did give a good hold on the aspect of transition.

‘How were you able to get your hands on that, anyway?’ Your reference, of course, is to the communication device in her current possession: the one that she had just used to relay a warp-relative connection latency conversation with her family, far away on the ice world of Lokeren. ‘It must have cost you an arm and a leg.’

‘It’s old,’ she reveals, with surprising immediacy. ‘It belonged to my parents. I don’t know how my father was able to get his hands on the set, but it’s keyed in to a specific spectrum and has a backdoor function to bounce off any communication drives in the area to reach a point. It’s powerful enough that the latency’s only at about … five seconds, but it’s only because they’re using the twin key system in bounce tech theory.’

She’s right.

That is old. It must have been during the time Colony Fleet Leonardo and Colony Fleet Adebsis were still Colony Fleet McEnroethree-hundred years, at least. Old technology was a hit and miss when it came to systems and software, but the general rule was that anything physical was made more practical and to last more than anything new. The Hellions were a testament to the presumption: the old girls were still kicking and could hold their own where their replacements faltered.

But …

‘It must have cost a fortune,’ you let out, impressed. ‘I mean, even if it’s keyed into a specific spectrum, if you’re able to play with bounce tech to the point that your latency’s cut under thirty seconds, at the very least you’ve got a financial fallback if things—’

‘I’m not selling it off,’ she cuts in, harsh and concise.

‘I know, I’m just …’ you shake your head, righting yourself back to the point, ‘I’m just saying that you don’t have an average comm device there. I mean, it’s old enough to not get caught in the middle of a transmission … and it’s still applicable enough to punch a hole through the back door of bounce tech relays. Even with a six-bounce range, that’s … impressive. Impractical, but … impressive.’

Morrigan eyes you suspiciously, before letting out a sigh.

‘I suppose you’re going to be confiscating it from me?’
>>
>>2776281
>‘I won’t, but … if your dad was able to get his hands on that kind of thing, you’ve kind of piqued my interest on his background.’ (Ask about her father some more)
>‘Regulations are regulations … and this is a breach of ship security.’ (Confiscate)
>‘As long as you can promise me that you won’t abuse the privilege … we can keep it between us.’ (Trust)
>Write-In
>>
>>2776281
>>‘I won’t, but … if your dad was able to get his hands on that kind of thing, you’ve kind of piqued my interest on his background.’ (Ask about her father some more)
>>
>>2776286
>As long as I have plausible deniability on them? Hell no. As far as I know I just comforted my ECO who was worrying about her family far away from her.
>>
>>2776286
>No, because anyone who is letting you keep that is doing it as a favor for an old friend, and I don't want to upset them.
>>
>>2776286
>Not at all, I don't just take random things from people and ontop of that you are old enough and responable enough to not need me to do that.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>2776292
>>2776304
>>2776311
>>2776327
Let's see how things go.
>>
You clear your throat as you take another step back, tugging on your collar as you try to make the sense of what had just been revealed to you … and compile it into conclusion that wasn’t going to end up with a laundry list of ramifications. Possession of an unregistered communications device—especially one utilizing bounce tech in the manner that that device most definitely did—wasn’t something that you could look over …

But then again, if anyone could be responsible while breaking the regulations, you’d have to give it to Morrigan to be able to fulfill her obligations and not jeopardize anyone in the process of making her—quite literal—social calls. It was a risk; that much you were certain: if she were caught and made to explain herself, you were under no illusions that you’d get off without a hitch, whether through plausible deniability, inexperience, or … just sheer and utter incompetence.

You could only trust her, at the end of the day.

‘As far as I am … concerned,’ you try your best to sound formal, but the words fumble from your mouth as though they’re made of tissue paper, ‘this conversation … never happened. As far as recollection goes, I am merely trying to comfort an ECO undergoing a bout of separation blues. I have no awareness of any contraband or illegal activities undertaken that aren’t within the parameters of operation.’

She stares at you, unimpressed.

‘You make a poor expression of that.’

‘I know,’ you admit, ‘but I’m still learning, after all.’

Morrigan snickers, wearing that familiar smirk.

No re-sits, Knight-Commander.

>‘I’d like to go over your responsibilities as my ECO.’ (General Information)
>‘I was told that you’re in charge with Independent Contractors …’ (Independent Contractor)
>‘You know, I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little bit more.’ (Personal)
>‘I’d like to go over the list of available assignments to us.’ (Missions)
>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>‘I should go.’ (Leave)
>Write-In
>>
>>2776391
>>‘I was told that you’re in charge with Independent Contractors …’ (Independent Contractor)
>>
>>2776391
>>‘I was told that you’re in charge with Independent Contractors …’ (Independent Contractor)
>>
>>2776391
>‘I was told that you’re in charge with Independent Contractors …’ (Independent Contractor)
>I made a silly purchase and need it's background looked into.
>>
‘I was told that you’re in charge of our lot of … Independent Contractors.’ You state the obvious; not because you were dull to the truths of the matter … but because you still found it a little hard to stomach the fact that The Aegis would permit this sort of contact at all. You knew you were being a little hypocritical of the matter at hand, especially with the reveal of Morrigan’s father being , but …

The thought of an external party being an asset at all, out of your direct jurisdiction? That kind of frightened you.

‘I’m responsible for maintaining contact and relations with them,’ she answers neutrally, ‘but to say that I’m in charge, well … that’d be a bit of a stretch.’

You sigh.

No control whatsoever.

‘And I see that you’ve made a generous donation to the participation fund,’ she states, picking up one of the datapads lying about on the table. ‘Nice to know that you’re willing to put a little faith in this office.’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know how much that amounts to, but I’ll take it that it’s not an entirely inadequate amount?’

Morrigan shakes her head, chuckling as she sets the datapad aside and pushes herself off the table, re-approaching you with that familiar smirk.

‘You have no idea what this is for, do you?’

You wear a slight grimace.

Not a clue.

>‘Would you mind walking me through it?’ (Tutorial)
>‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’ (Designate ops)
>‘I think I’ll need a run-down as to what and how these guys operate first …’ (Background)
>‘Can we go over something else?’ (Change topic/Specify)
>Write-In
>>
>>2776489
>>‘Would you mind walking me through it?’ (Tutorial)
>>
>>2776489
>‘Would you mind walking me through it?’ (Tutorial)
>>
>>2776489
>‘Would you mind walking me through it?’ (Tutorial)
>>
>>2776489

>‘Would you mind walking me through it?’ (Tutorial)
>>
Running in approximately 20 minutes.
>>
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‘Of course. What do you need talking through?’

>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2778183
>>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>>
>>2778183
>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>>
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‘How long would one of these ventures take to complete?’

‘It depends on four things.’ She holds up three fingers on her prosthetic for emphasis. ‘The Difficulty Level of the assignment, which cuts in to how much research and practical digging the Contractor has to do. Assignments that require a little bit more lore unearthed will typically take a longer time; an obscure fact, a thin lead … it all adds up. Then there’s the Type of Assignment at hand: Scouting, which involves unearthing unknown vectors—which are typically the cheapest type of assignments—Rumors, which are assignments dependent on hunting down vectors and agendas that aren’t critical to operations; Archaeological, which are the usually the most expensive, as they involve hunts that research into the presence of lost or abandoned technological frontiers … and Special Considerations, which operate on the basis that a significant lead has been built, typically with anything you’d have in your possession. It beats me what they’ll hunt and what they won’t, though. I can elaborate on those three types a little bit more if you want.’

You nod.

‘The other two dependencies?’

‘There’s the Contractor Rating, which is basically a rating on the dependability of the Contractor to … not just make off with our money and run or to actually fulfill an assignment. Typically, you only have to worry about these with Archaeological and Rumor-based Contracts. Special Considerations are generally less … risky than either of them.’

You nod again.

‘And the last one?’

She goes over the datapad again, before looking back up to you.

‘There’s a … Bonus factor involved. Some extra money to give them a sort of initiative to come back to you with everything set on the table. There’s the usual fee scale, of course, but if you give them a little extra, they might be inclined to speed up their hunting somewhat.

'Sounds like a seller rating system.'

'That's how the private sector works, Knight-Commander.'

>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2778244
>>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>>
>>2778244
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>>
>>2778244
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>>
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‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’

Morrigan sets down the datapad, a small smirk playing on her lips.

‘There’s two ways your bounty or fee can affect your investment,’ she starts. ‘For one, offering a considerable fee … that’ll attract more Contractors who think you’re worth their time … and the other is that you get varying degrees of performance and risk … and sometimes even priority on any contracts you have out. Generally, the rule is the more you allocate to my department, the more people I can attract … and the more out of the budget you dole out you delegate to the contractors, the more … amicable returns you’d get get. In theory, of course. It’s a wide galaxy … and you don’t know who’s going to fleece you and who’s going to play an honest game.’

You cock an eyebrow.

‘Isn’t that your job to screen through the applicants, Officer?’

She wears a mysterious smile.

‘There’s only so much I can read up from a profile to give my full judgment on the matter, sir,’ Morrigan returns, sounding amused, ‘after all, human nature isn’t an exact science … or we’d all be a great big goop of collective consciousness instead of being in a starship playing border patrol.’

It was a rather funny truth.

But true, you supposed, from a certain perspective.

>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2778331
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>>
>>2778331
>>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>>
>>2778331
>>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>>
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‘What are my options with the Contractors?’

Not very wide,’ she answers tiredly, crossing her arms and seating herself on the edge of her desk once more. ‘They operate out of our direct scope of interference or influence so we don’t have a specific—or general—chart on their activities or what they will and won’t do with what you have for them. I was able to categorize them into assignment types, though … but I’m not sure how many of them fit neatly. You might have a few cross-sections.’

She picks up one of the datapads, offering the glowing display, to which you duly pick out of her hands and go skim through.

SCOUTING
Description: A general scouting assignment of current or neighboring—and sometimes far-off—systems. These generally cover the general mood of the inhabited worlds, their tendencies, the assignments and the political climate. Sometimes even the geographical data of the worlds in question, should it be relevant. Higher fees uncover more information.

RUMORS
Description: A follow-up on rumors in current or neighboring systems or even far-fetched tales that remain curiosities. It’s hard to verify what’s true and what’s not in the first place, so a rule of thumb is to verify just what the rumor you’d like to follow up on. Some gossip may not be worth your money and time … or the Contractors, for that matter. Scouting generally unlocks note-worthy rumors, although they may be false leads.

ARCHAEOLOGICAL
Description: The most risky type of Intelligence Contract, Archaeological assignments involve having the Contractors track down abandoned or lost technology. It’s uncertain how these come up in conversation at all, given their specific categorization, but a Rumors tend to lead into gossip of these mythic, abandoned sites. Just be careful: many contractors see these as more rewarding endeavors to undertake than adherence to their body of integrity … and to you.

SPECIAL CONSIDERATIONS
Description: Certain parameters must be achieved in order for these cases to be undertaken

You set the datapad down. That was quite a lot to take in.

>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2778396
>No refunds even with receipts, I take it?
>>
>>2778396
>>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>>
>>2778401
i'll support this
>>2778477
we asked that already anon
>>
>>2778396
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>>
I promise I'll get to it, guys, I just have to sort out the new livestock schedule for my family and we'll be back to normal programming.
>>
testo
>>
Session in an hour.
>>
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‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?

Morrigan raises a hand to her chin, gently cupping it as she adopts a thoughtful look. ‘If you’re able to clarify the context of a refund, I suppose?’

‘As in, getting my money back?’ you answer, if somewhat sardonically. She doesn’t seem to take notice of your frustrated bout of clarification, however; if she did you’d bet that you’d be getting some return fire now.

‘Normally, there really isn’t much of a case for a refund,’ she explains. ‘Due to the nature of the operations and the contracts, it’s usually a waste of resources and time for any outfit to actually bother chasing some petty cash around. We chalk it up to losses, in that context; it’s a wide galaxy and you don’t usually get what you want … and people are nasty enough to want to separate you from your money.’

You shrug.

Coming from a Colony Fleet, it was pretty much an expected occurrence.

‘As with every rule and piece of conduct, however, there are exceptions,,’ she continues, her tone taking a strangely hardened quality. ‘Some operations, some contracts, employ a chain larger than a usual one-to-one contact; for instance, let’s say a Scouting assignment is paid up-front and leads in to other assignments, either by succession or through parallel progression logic. If our Contractor decides that he’s got a big enough pot to book it to the other side of the universe, we’ll have an easier time about it if there are more than a few lips willing to flap when their operations are disrupted as much as ours are.

It’s not that hard to piece together, you suppose.

‘This only applies to the big contracts, then?’

‘There are small and moderate assignments with similar chains,’ Morrigan states, ‘but the parties involves are usually more willing to write off a loss and abandon it than waste resources. Like I said, it’s all about how much of an investment that the Chapter’s made and how many parties are involved; but again, it’s not recommended to put time, money and manpower into tracking down something that we can recoup hunting down illegal scrappers and putting Mechs back into circulation; so if you’re sure on putting us on course for a refund, it better be for a Princess’s ransom.’

‘Noted.’ You give a nod of acknowledgment; no use chasing something with a chase costing more than that something, after all. ‘How frequently can we expect to be conned in this context, then?’

‘Not very,’ she answers, much to your relief. ‘But if it’s valuable intel and big money … I suggest you start developing your sense of character judgment, Knight-Commander.’

You cock an eyebrow, smirking.

‘Isn’t that what I have you for, Ms Fisher?’

She gives in back in earnest.
>>
>>2787855
>‘How long would one of these … ventures take to complete?’
>‘How does money affect what I get out of my investment?’
>‘What are my options with the Contractors?’
>‘Can I get refunds on my contracts if they don’t … bear fruit?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2787857
>>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
lets look at what choices we have
>>
>>2787857
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>First job I have for these guys: I need them to look into a 200 year old data key.
>>
'I'd like to go over something else.'

'You're the Knight-Commander.'

>‘Could you explain all that again?’ (Tutorial)
>‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’ (Designate ops)
>‘I think I’ll need a run-down as to what and how these guys operate first …’ (Background)
>Change tone of conversation (Specify)
>Write-In
>>
>>2787864
>>‘I think I’ll need a run-down as to what and how these guys operate first …’ (Background)
>>
>>2787864
>‘I think I’ll need a run-down as to what and how these guys operate first …’ (Background)
>>
>>2787864
>‘I think I’ll need a run-down as to what and how these guys operate first …’ (Background)
>>
‘I think that I’m going to need a run-down to the what and the how of these operations before I go into anything,’ you sound out, shifting uncomfortably as you consider the implications of the methodology involved. ‘As much as I’m aware of the scope of our … associates’’—Morrigan snickers slightly at your attempt to be discrete; couldn’t be anything else, really—‘activities, I’m going to at least need something a little more concrete to go by so we don’t, uh … you know, get caught in ignorance.’

‘Fair point,’ your ECO concedes, nodding as she crosses her arms again, a thoughtful look etching itself over her features as the point begins its weigh-in, ‘but I can’t go into the specific scope of activity for every single Contractor, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s no two that operate by the same book or identical channels of activity, so I can’t tell—or want to know—the depths of their spades into that pile of the ground. What I do know, though, is that as long as we operate by them, they’re essentially untouchable by the long arm of the law—’

If there was a warning klaxon, that was it.

‘So—’

‘—but we’re a Named Chapter,’ she continues, not bothering to heed your interjection. ‘So as long as we don’t upset the administration too bad doing our digging, we can count on just a few filled inboxes over physical inquiries.’

You frown. ‘Sounds messy.’

She lets out a light chortle.

‘It’s not a clean workspace, no.’

>‘Questionable black curtain activities … a floor full of sensitive toes … anything else I miss?’ (Reluctant)
>‘As long as they get it done, no complaints, I guess.’ (Accepting)
>‘Your dad actually saw this as a line of work?’ (Grill)
>‘I get the picture.’ (Neutral, dismissive)
>Write-In
>>
>>2790095
>‘As long as they get it done, no complaints, I guess.’ (Accepting)
>>
>>2790095
>>‘As long as they get it done, no complaints, I guess.’ (Accepting)
>>
‘As long as they get it done, no complaints, I guess,’ you concede, scratching the back of your head. ‘I’m not thrilled about the idea, but I didn’t sign up on the basis that I was going to come out of this with clean hands.’

Morrigan considers you for a moment.

It wasn’t hard to understand just what the premise entailed.

It was hard to accept that, despite everything, you were going to have to let certain things slip by if you wanted to get things done at all. Morrigan had explained the mechanics quite generally, but you didn’t feel like they were going to be doling out charity in exchange for vital information related to the range of their tasks. You’d read spy fiction before; it hadn’t been quite your thing, but the element of intrigue and subversion appealed to your more imaginative side. Dodging corridors, double-speak, the tension of a lie hanging on the balance between acceptance and exposure …

And now, here you were, fidgeting on the concept that you would have to allow all those things.

Even if they would hurt others.

No wonder they say morality and ethics are learned behaviors,’ you grumble, throwing your gaze off to the side. ‘This isn’t easy to work with, I tell you that much.’

Morrigan raises an eyebrow.

‘Having second thoughts?’

No,’ you answer adamantly. ‘I accept that it’s going to be the scope of this Chapter to operate for the good of the Empire. I just never thought I’d actually have to be the one to have to give the go-ahead to it by association.’

She only gives a small nod in return.

The implications are lost to you.

>‘Could you explain all that again?’ (Tutorial)
>‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’ (Designate ops)
>Change tone of conversation (Specify)
>Write-In
>>
>>2790130
>>‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’ (Designate ops)
>>
>>2790130
>‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’ (Designate ops)
>>
‘Would you be able to get me in contact with the local intelligence net?’

‘Of course,’ she answers, professional as ever. ‘Anything in particular?’

>‘I’d like to run a [SCOUT] on this system.’
>‘Digging up some [RUMORS] should be the order for the day.’
>‘Can I run an [ARCHAEOLOGICAL] check?’
>‘Do we have any [SPECIALISTS] around?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>>
>>2790175
>‘Can I run an [ARCHAEOLOGICAL] check?’
>>
I am SO sorry that that last prompt took so long to type up. I fucked up sorting out the Contractors and am in the middle of revealing which is for which. Next time I'll just list all the guys available in the System. My bad guys.
>>
>>2790175
>>‘Can I run an [ARCHAEOLOGICAL] check?’
>a 200 year data key counts right?
>>
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‘Can I run an [ARCHAEOLOGICAL] check?’

‘There are no known Archaeological Investigations available to be followed up on,’ Morrigan recites, almost as though she was reading from a pre-written practice draft. ‘If you’re trying to find any news on old sites and caches, I suggest running a Scout to check on the historical relevance of the region first. No one’s going to dig around without something substantial to dig for, after all.

‘There’s absolutely nothing in these parts?’

‘Can’t draw up a doc myself,’ she returns, frowning, ‘but if you’re going to go hunting around here anyway, I suggest you look around for gossip and a get a general picture of the system if you’re still insistent.’

What if I already have a lead, then?

She wears a smug, satisfied, smile.

‘That’s what we have Specialists for.’

>‘I’d like to run a [SCOUT] on this system.’
>‘Digging up some [RUMORS] should be the order for the day.’
>‘Can I run an [ARCHAEOLOGICAL] check?’
>‘Do we have any [SPECIALISTS] around, then?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’
>>
>>2790203
>>‘Do we have any [SPECIALISTS] around, then?’
>>
>>2790203
>‘Do we have any [SPECIALISTS] around, then?’
>>
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‘Do we have any specialists around, then?’

‘There’re a few around,’ she returns, giving a small nod. ‘Depends on what you want investigated.’

Available:
>Old Data Key
>Do something else (Write-In)
>>
>>2793630
>>Old Data Key
>>
>>2793630
>Old Data Key
>>
You produce the [Old Data Key].

‘I’d like to have this scrutinized,’ you request, holding it up. ‘Any Contractors out there keen on playing antique hunter?’

Morrigan gives a slight snort, placing her hands on her hips as she takes out a smaller datapad from her breastpocket; this one barely half the length of her palm.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Contractor Assignment: OLD DATA KEY

AVAILABLE CONTRACTORS FROM BUDGET

Codename: Wicket
Historical Data: N/A
Trusted: N/A

Codename: Sire
Historical Data: N/A
Trusted: N/A


>Choose Contractor
>>
>>2793679
>Sire
>>
>>2793679
>Sire
>>
>>2793679
>Sire
>>
>>2793679
>Sire
>>
>>2793685
>>2793689
>>2793703
>>2793719
+1
>>
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‘I’ll go with Sire,’ you decide, giving a nod of confirmation.

‘Right,’ Morrigan acknowledges, taking a step back as she walks over to a miniature console on the side of the desk. ‘I’ll get comms up straight away.’

You blink.

‘You can do that?’

Morrigan throws a flat stare your way … before gesturing to an engraved circle on the floor. Your cheeks almost light up in embarrassment as your curriculum on comm protocol leaks through like a problematic faucet … and realize just whose office—and what the specifications of rank—this belonged to. You sheepishly take a step back and navigate yourself to the circle, ready to get it over and done with. The holograms instantly come on as the room darkens, several status windows and indicators showcasing the connection attempt. There’s a small flip that your stomach makes as the scanner analyzes your biometric properties to calibrate alongside the comtech. The yellow warning window is unneeded: you let out an open-mouthed hum to make it go away almost instantly … and just as quickly find yourself face-to-face with a—

‘Oh, this is a rare occasion.’

It was a woman.

Her age is indiscernible and her voice is distorted … but you can definitely tell that it is a woman. Her surroundings are scrambled and lacked for detail … and the scrambling feedback bounces over all the known planets and several orbits in the system, so whatever it was, you can tell that she didn’t want to be found: if she was who she was on paper, anyway. She didn’t look particularly intimidating; there was an almost matronly aura about her, or at the very least, the vibe of a troublemaker of an elder sister. Her features are calm, if a little twitchy … and even with the slight distortion, you can tell that she was rather tightly-built. Her body language looks informal, her expression curious but doesn’t give much away. One booted foot lies on what appears to be a raised platform, a table … and the slight slouch tells you of a less-than-professional approach.

At least, that’s what you think.

‘Didn’t know The Aegis shipped you guys out so young,’ the woman comments. ‘You’re not quite up to my specification, though.’

You cock an eyebrow.

Excuse me?

She takes her boot off the raised platform, the table, stroking her chin as she appears to stand and—

Find the feed visually decapitating her.

She was either an amateur or new at this job.

‘The range on this damn thing sucks,’ she grumbles, audibly … although you’re not quite sure if the words were meant for you. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘I can,’ you reply.

‘Well, I don’t have to tell you who I am,’ the woman returns, her features coming back into view. ‘Sire’s the name. Specialist tasks are my game.’

Choose Approach
>Informal/Casual Approach
>Formal Approach
>Flirtatious Approach
>Direct Approach
>Inquisitive Approach
>Write-I
>>
>>2793760
>>Informal/Casual Approach
>>
>>2793772
>>2793760
>body language looks informal, her expression curious but doesn’t give much away.
+1, seems like the way to go with her.
>>
>>2793760
>>Informal/Casual Approach
>>
>>2793760
>Is the callsign hereditary or a joke? You don't look to be a throughbred male hunting hound.
>Informal/Casual
>>
>>2793779
kek, +1
>>
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‘is the callsign hereditary or a joke? You don’t like a thoroughbred hunting hound.’

‘My associates kept calling me a bitch behind my back,’ she imparts casually. ‘I like a sprinkling of irony here and there, you know? It gives me a little bit of street cred.’

‘Street cred? That’s a thing?’

‘Two million standard years and a dozen suns going dark are going to pass by before that goes out of style,’ Sire declares. ‘A name’s a name at the end, right? A little bit of humor doesn’t hurt, here and there … not in these times, anyway. Ain’t that right, hatchling?

You raise an eyebrow. Hatchling? That was a new one.

I know so,’ you return, trying your best not to sound like you’d been taken off-balance … at least, not by a significant margin. ‘Still, not here to tick off names and throw up criticism on something that I don’t have an actual stake in … but if you can, I’d like to toss something up for you to do.’

Sire laughs.

‘I figured this wasn’t a social call,’ she returns, closing one eye as she adjusts herself into a—somewhat—more formal stance. To you, however, she looked like someone trying to play bank manager but couldn’t get past the rudimentary requirements. ‘So what is it? You wanna get some knocked off a list? Someone stole your Mechs or something?’

‘Excuse me?’

She grins. ‘I’m a Specialist. Your type doesn’t come knocking on my door or ringing me up unless it’s something you don’t particularly want on your own hands. You Aegis folk are really way too concerned at keeping your reputations squeaky clean … not that I care, of course. You’ve got a good pot on the market either way … so what do you need?’

You hold up the Old Data Key, immediately prompting a frown from Sire.

‘What can you make of this?’

She stays silent, if only for a moment.

‘From this distance? That it’s something that you have no clue about and want me to tell you what it is.’

You bite back a curse. Stepping on her toes wasn’t something that was on the table—figuratively, at least—at the moment. With this being your first foray into the world of Contractors, the stupidest thing you could do was over-reach on your … relationship, if you could call it that. You were a Spacer, after all. Good terms meant more than a bucket of Crowns to you. You’d learned not to get snagged.

‘Ask a stupid question.’ You humor her, chuckling. ‘Would you be able to run an investigation on this for me?’

Sire scratches her chin.

‘It’s not out of my comfort zone, if that’s what you’re askin’,’ she returns, leaning forward. ‘I can do some digging and try to find the origin … unless that’s not what you’re looking for?’

‘Might be.’

You try not to sound too enthusiastic.

She appreciates your sense of humor.

‘And my fee would be?’

>[INPUT FEE]
>>
>>2793865
>1 Mil
>>
>>2793865
>how about we start at 1 millions crowns?
>>
>>2793876
>>2793877
+1
>>2778244
>‘There’s a … Bonus factor involved. Some extra money to give them a sort of initiative to come back to you with everything set on the table. There’s the usual fee scale, of course, but if you give them a little extra, they might be inclined to speed up their hunting somewhat.’
Is this going to be our minimum offer?
>>
>>2793885
You can offer a "basic fee" and "if you can come up with a little extra" you can slap on an additional reward.
>>
>>2793885
So 1 Mil base to investigate and a 20% bonus on top for a good explanation of the data log anomaly?
>>
>>2793899
Sounds good. Admittedly I'm not sure what numbers to throw around when it comes to finance, so I'm following your logic.
>>
>>2793900
Yeah, as you get experience dealing with these guys you get EXP.
>>
>>2793900
We got a base price scale in the discord. 500k to 15Mil for prices.

500k - "sky is blue"
15 Mil - "location of the 12th princess' g-spot"
>>
test
>>
>>2793909
If that is chocoprincess then i would save for that
>>
You didn’t want to blow all your money on one go.

At the same time, however, you’re loath to think that you’d burnt your budget with Memphis on a something like this Data Key without a discernible, tangible … or immediate return. Sire scratches her chin as she waits for your offer. You didn’t want to seem like you were too keen on having yourself be fleeced for everything that you were worth, either. Outside of personal pride—and the usual Spacer phobia—you don’t think that Morrigan would be happy that you’d be dumping everything at one go.

But you had to be serious with your offer.

One million crowns,’ you start, prompting a small wrinkle in the corner of the Contractor’s mouth. ‘One million crowns if you can find out what this is and what its origins are … and two hundred thousand on top of that for immediacy, detailed analysis and a proper list of its current mode of use. That’s my offer.’

She wears a slight, cruel smirk, leaning over with her elbow.

‘You’re really playing the budget game, aren’t ya, hatchling?’

‘Just following allocation protocol is all,’ you reply nonchalantly, trying to sound less dismissive and more matter-of-fact with the context of the conversation. She wasn’t someone who was particularly serious, after all. ‘Do we have a deal?’

She lets out a playful—yet audibly frustrated—hum, shuffling loudly in place.

Had you done something wrong?

‘All right.’

Her agreement to the terms is as much a surprise to you as a Fleet Jump that didn’t result in something, somewhere, exploding.

>Finalize Deal
>Change Terms (Write-In)
>>
>>2797479
>Finalize Deal
>>
>>2797479
>>Finalize Deal
>>
>>2797479
>>Finalize Deal
>>
>>2797479
>>Finalize Deal
>>
>>2797479
>Finalize Deal
>>
You upload the details—schematics, creases, nooks and everything available—through the channel. Sire acknowledges the data with a nod, promising an immediate response. You try not to give a sarcastic roll of the eyes as the financial code hits her way, the last of a snarky comment hitting your ears as the feed cuts off. That was that, then. All you could do now was wait for something to come out of it … if it ever did. There was still the possibility that you’d procured something with no intrinsic worth … and you were sure that even without the earful from your Officers, gossip would still travel about how you’d put up seven digits for something that was nothing more than ancient junk.

‘Uploaded,’ Morrigan informs you, flipping the screen and showing the two-way reception. The indicators at the bottom tell you that—if not obvious from before—Sire had closed the connection. This was just a secondary confirmation module to show that you’d sent whatever you already had on the Old Data Key her way; evidence that you’d done your half, if nothing else.

Now, though …

Now you had to wait.

‘Would you like me to forward anything else?’

You shake your head.

‘No, that’s all the data that I have, anyway.’ You go over the schematics again, just to make sure. ‘Is there an ETA on when I’ll get my results back?’

‘I can’t speak for her. They operate on different timetables.’

You shrug. That was something you had to accept.

‘Although … would you like the findings to be directly sent or would you like me to have them on alert and notify you when they come through?’

>‘Give her a direct link.’
>‘Play filter for me.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2797806
>>‘Play filter for me.’
>>
>>2797806
>‘Play filter for me.’
>>
>>2797806
>>‘Give her a direct link.’
>>
>>2797806
Honestly we both need to look at them and you have more experience than I. Play filter and help me learn?
>>
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‘I’m not in the know just yet,’ you confess (Not that it wasn’t already obvious). ‘If possible, I’d like for you to play a filter for me … at least for now.’

‘If you have me play your filter, you’re going to have to add some time for me to screen through the response tags,’ Morrigan clarifies, sounding more like an automaton than your ECO. ‘You all right with that?’

‘Yeah,’ you answer, closing the connection. ‘Put this assignment on a filter. I’ll get back to it on your time.’

‘Understood.’

>‘I’d like to go over your responsibilities as my ECO.’ (General Information)
>‘You mind if we keep going over the Contractors?’ (Independent Contractor)
>‘I’ve got time … you want to talk?’ (Personal)
>‘I’d like to go over the list of available assignments to us.’ (Missions)
>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>‘I should go.’ (Leave)
>Write-In
>>
>>2797849
>>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>>
>>2797849
>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>>
>>2797849
>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>>
‘What’s the good word?’

Morrigan powers her interface down, cocking an amused eyebrow as she gets to her feet.

What’s the good word?

Your cheeks almost turn pink as she throws your words back at you, her eyes practically dancing at the awkward approach you had taken with your proclamation. A small, restrained giggle sounds out with the shift of her legs, moving from behind her workstation and around the corners of her desk, crossing her arms as she takes a playful expression that reminded you much too much of your days back in her office getting your brain picked apart. You are just at the edge on the blathering of a justification that held less water than a cracked damn … when Morrigan Fisher snorts your rationale back into working order, and you proceed, cool as possible.

You think so, anyway.

‘Anything that you’ve heard about?’

‘This isn’t exactly a gossip stall in the woman’s bathroom, Knight-Commander,’ Morrigan mentions, her amusement still intact and the pointed nature of her reply finer than the tip of a spear. Still …

‘True,’ you reply, almost nonchalantly by your standards, ‘but I like to think that hasn’t stopped flapping mouths from doing their thing, no?’

She laughs. Clearly, loudly … and clutching her hat just for good measure.

‘I swear,’ she snorts right back, ‘I don’t know whether to be flattered that you’re stealing my quotes or annoyed that you’re throwing them back at me.’

‘I’m a good student.’

She sticks her tongue out in reply, before shaking her head and recomposing herself.

‘Fine, you got me.

>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>Write-In
>>
>>2797947
>>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>>
>>2797947
>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>>
>>2797947
>>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>>
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‘Anything among our pilots?’

She adopts a thoughtful look, scratching her cheek.

‘Nothing that’s too out there,’ she starts, prompting a small nod from you. ‘Everyone’s still adapting at the moment. Murasame’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s a pilot and practically inflated by helium all the way down to his gray matter; Maldante’s been surprisingly friendly with the Navy crew since he got on board … never seen him like that before … and Reinweld’s been keeping busy as much as he can.’

She missed one name.

‘And Gerard?’

The thoughtful expression hardens. Morrigan shifts uncomfortably as you see all manner of playfulness practically vanish at the mention of his name. There was something … solemn about how she looked now. There’s some uncertainty, some reluctance … and the defeated sigh that follows right after has you hesitant yourself. Morrigan frowns, the corners of her mouth wrinkling as they move up and down with your expectancy of an answer.

‘Jetdom’s coping well enough.’

You frown.

That couldn’t have been it.

‘After what happened on Rhysode, I wasn’t sure that he’d be fit for duty, but … if his current parameters are anything to go by, I think that he’s at least adapting as well as the rest of you.’

The answer was odd, even for her.

‘I don’t think Rhysode was easy on any of us,’ you return, taking a light drawl as you try to make sense of the assessment, as vague as it sounded. ‘Why wouldn’t he be coping well?’

Because that was his homeworld.’

>Follow-up
>Change the topic
>Write-In
>>
>>2798013
>Change the topic
well, if anything that will make him fight harder for vengance
>>
>>2798013
>Follow-up
>Is it his first time out of system?
>>
>>2798013
>Follow-up
I need to know more. Is he still grieving or is he in the mood to kill any Alliance person on sight?
>>
>>2798046
this, we want our dudes letting go of their murderboners when they are ordered to, not whenever its convenient for them
>>
>>2798013
>>Follow-up
>>
>>2798046
this
must know more
>>
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There were questions that you wanted to ask.

Before any of those saw the light of day, however …

‘Are we talking psychotic tendencies or just general repression?’

His current mental state to a higher degree of importance. As his friend and his one-time peer, the consideration for his emotional well-being was a standard measure of concern … but it wasn’t something that you wanted to fall back on right away. Gerard had been amicable enough in his interactions during your Academy days, but affirmation of stability in regards to his external chemistry, especially in regards to the rest of the Chapter concerned you more than if he was feeling positive at all. You’re concerned, of course, like any friend would be … but as the Knight-Commander, you had to take a step or four back to give the situation professional assessment. Diving straight into your feelings into the matter wasn’t a wise path to take. Not here and now.

Especially with the voice at the back of your head egging you on.

‘I don’t have much of a read on either,’ Morrigan elaborates (much to your relief), ‘but I’d like you to keep an eye out so that he doesn’t do anything stupid.’

Your frown deepens as you hold your arms, confusion beginning to etch itself into the creases of your brain. Wasn’t that already your concern?

‘Isn’t that already in my job description?’ you return, voice stoic and spine stiff.

‘It is,’ she concedes … much to your surprise. ‘It’s something that I have to put an emphasis on, however. Psych sessions help, but … a strong structure surrounding personnel gives a stronger base for coping mechanisms to work. It’s not true for the wide berth of the human race, but you’d be surprised how many people would actually be more effective human beings knowing someone’s out there to catch them when they slip.’

‘That definitely sounds like evaluation duty.’

You don’t know why you make that joke.

All the same, you can’t blame the slight frost lining Morrigan’s glance with the execution of that particularly sarcastic retort.

‘It’s called team management,’ she accentuates, placing her hands on her hips and assuming a stance that seems to have been picked right out of Sanza’s operating manual. ‘A leader’s not meant to be the smartest, the strongest, the fastest or the—’

‘The best,’ you cut right in, rolling your eyes. ‘He’s out there to make sure that he has the smartest, the strongest and the best from the ones under his command. Maximization of attributes and nuances; I passed my first year.’

‘Then you know where this stands, sir.

You do.

‘So I should talk to him or something?’

‘That’s up to you, but … if there’s something he wants to do or say and he doesn’t have something—or someone—to fall back on, it’s more than likely it’s not going to just end up as a stamp-and-file.

You sigh.

Perfect.

>Write-In
>>
>>2804533
>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>Write-In
>>
>>2804533
>I think I need to set up a group meeting with all my pilots and major members of the squadron.
>>
>>2804550
Honestly not a bad idea, I'll support this
We should schedule it after our next missions
>>
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‘I could organize a team meeting,’ you suggest. You don’t know why you do; you were in charge and could pull it off on a whim … but since Morrigan had more experience than you on the psychological conditioning of soldiers and staff, saying it aloud felt like it made more sense than bottling it as a note and casting it away as a one-note decision. Going by Morrigan’s slight—if stoic—nod, it seemed to be a good call on your part.

‘I’m not exactly sure how well you know Jetdom,’ she continues, not missing a beat, ‘but it’s not a bad suggestion. I suggest you don’t just drop the fact that you’re putting it together for his sake, though.’

To that, you were unsure.

You knew Gerard well enough that he was more content playing a cog in the wheel rather than being the one doing the spinning. Not that he wasn’t leader material, of course, but … he’d been a little self-centered in that sense. Paradoxically, you weren’t sure how he’d react to being the focus of a discussion to his mental health. You weren’t a specialist in the same mold as the woman that stood before you … and it felt a little awkward holding this responsibility in your hands when you were following Gerard’s advice less than two standard years back.

But you had a job to do.

‘Well, it’s something that I have to sort out anyway,’ you let out, a little more tiredly than you expected your voice to come out. ‘I’m … in charge, after all.’

It’s amazing how much enthusiasm could be sapped right out of an authoritative statement by reluctance.

Morrigan’s sympathetic smile only adds the cherry to the cream top.

>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>Write-In
>>
>>2804666
>>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>>
>>2804666
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>>
>>2804684
>>2804686
Flipping a coin. Flipped.
>>
‘Any gossip among the Officers?’

‘Not much,’ she articulates, prompting a small nod. ‘Everyone’s still trying to get used to their stations, so if they have anything to say, you’ll probably have to dig around yourself. Most of the Engineering and Maintenance Unit are flapping their gums about what happened on Rhysode, but Memphis and I know you too well to drop ourselves to that state of operations.’

A smile arrives, aware and enigmatic.

If there is meaning behind it she doesn’t share it with you.

‘What about the Commissar and Doctor Holmes?’

‘The Commissar isn’t the type to strike me as someone who’d pry into anything that isn’t his job,’ Morrigan muses, her voice taking a lighter tone. ‘Considering it’s already his job to pry I think that he’d rather keep his need-to-know priorities strictly need-to-know.’

You tilt your head, shrugging your shoulders with a measure of understanding. If your job already covered the scope it would probably make sense to not pursue a similar range of activity. The Commissar likely had his hands full filling out reports and turning up checklists and references … if it were you, you’d prefer to be lounging in your office with some hot tea and some light music.

‘And Holmes?’

‘I don’t think he has much of an opinion of you,’ she imparts, ‘but by his disciplinary record, it’s unlikely that you’re the exception to the rule.’

‘So he doesn’t like me; fair enough.’

The small smile returns.

‘I’m not going to extrapolate on a colleague’s opinion. If you want anymore, I suggest you talk to him about it … if he’s willing to share, of course.’

You shrug again.

That was fair.

>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>Write-In
>>
>>2805012
>>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>>
>>2805012
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>>
>>2805012
>>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>>
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‘Anything juicy you’ve picked up about the system?’

‘Nothing more than what the initial reports have for us,’ she answers, shaking her head. ‘I’d probably be able to dig up a little bit more if you’d set some scouting assignments up, but that’s up to you, really.’

‘Nothing at all?’ you question further.

‘We’ve been in this system for less than a standard week and had minimal contact with any civilian or external settlement,’ Morrigan highlights, the pointed tone that she usually took surprisingly absent. She’d usually have something sharp wedged between the consonants and vowels, but considering the difference in rank right now, you choose to believe that she was a little conscious of herself and unwilling to cross that line.

Still, you didn’t need her to communicate the criticism when you’d asked a question with an obvious answer.

Especially when you’d effectively asked it twice.

Right.’

Your ECO gives a slight nod, taking the word as your apology. Or, at least, you hope she did.

‘There’s not like that there’s much to work with, anyway,’ she continues. ‘Incidents are localized to the settlements and unlikely break out of atmosphere, so even if you find something, it’ll probably be more suited for a city-wide news publication than something to follow up on. At least, that’s what I can extrapolate from the reports; as far as you’re concern, this is the kiddy pool of operations.’

‘And you can say that with absolute certainty?’

Morrigan smirks.

‘I never approach anything with an assumption of absolute certainty, sir.’

>‘Anything among the pilots?’
>‘Staff stories spreading about?’
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>‘I’d like to go a little wide … anything about the system? Politics about?’
>‘I’d like to talk about something else.’ (Specify)
>‘I better get going. Sorry to bother you, Officer Fisher.’
>Write-In
>>
>>2805164
>‘Anything on the Navy Staff?’
>>
>>2805164
"Anything else of note you think I should here before I head out then?"
>>
>>2805164
>"Anything else of note you think I should here before I head out then?"
>>
>>2805164
>>"Anything else of note you think I should here before I head out then?"
>>
‘Anything else you think I should be going over?’

‘That’s something you’ll have to sort out for yourself, Knight-Commander.

Her tone is bored; unimpressed.

>‘I’d like to go over your responsibilities as my ECO.’ (General Information)
>‘You mind going over the Contractors again?’ (Independent Contractor)
>‘Off the record …’ (Personal)
>‘I’d like to go over the list of available assignments to us.’ (Missions)
>‘What’s the good word?’ (Rumors)
>‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ (Leave)
>Write-In
>>
I was reviewing the "interact" system and came up with a new one that was more convenient. It's also easier on the "event trigger" mechanic for me, so I'd like to test it out. As soon as you guys choose to leave, I'll start using it.
>>
>>2806792
>>‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ (Leave)
lets go and test the new system and talk to a few more people and then get to our next mission
>>
'I'll see you in a bit.'

She gives an affirmative nod, throwing up a formal salute as you motion for one of your own. However Morrigan Fisher was, it was a testament to her professionalism that she was able to separate the personal and professional aspect of your relationship. With one turn on the heel and the hiss of a door, you find yourself back in the corridor, ready to sort out the rest of your makeshift itinerary.

There wasn't much of a rush.

You could take your time; at least for now.

>Seek out location
>Seek out personnel
>Review System Assignment/Overview
>Write-In
>>
>>2806864
>>Seek out location
>Yamato Crew Lounge 1
>>
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Crew Lounge 1 lives up to his name. Patron are scarce, but the room would have taken at least half the stretch of your old dormitory. There’s a relaxed atmosphere that reminds you of a library, with groups of couches and tables and displays littered around the place and a collection—no, an open cabinet—of interactive media and virtual interfaces all gathered in a corner for use. The place is surprisingly neat; the clusters of couches and desks were all arranged in as uniform a state as you can see, with about a dozen or so clusters in plain view. There’s a large screen in practically every corner playing a muted feed of Imperial media; some news, some cartoons … all except for one, which had a large note stuck on it with unintelligible script all over it. The dialect was a little off, but it didn’t take a genius to determine that it was a warning to keep away.

Then there was—to your surprise—the presence of a few old-fashioned arcade units, lined up in their own little portion of the room. You didn’t think that the Navy or The Aegis would have kept those lying around in any capacity … not with their age. Arcade units were a relic by any standard … and didn’t have enough of a niche to be called antiques by themselves. You estimated those bulky units by the end—multiplayer-purposed entertainment modules—to have a scrap estimation of at least a hundred and fifty years … older than the ship. Technological advances may have been at a practical crawl, but … considering the presence of the virtual interfaces on one side, you wonder why The Aegis or The Navy would have old bulky models like those lying around in plain sight.

Then again, it wasn’t like analog had gone out of fashion in the last several millennia. Pencil and pen and paper and plastic still had their use.

In any case, the lounge was practically empty.

There were four groups of people around, totaling to less than a dozen that looked to be idle. Of that gross, there were two groups, of three and four, manning a couch and a table. The group of three reading silently off what looked to be a news feed projected from the table interface, while the group of four—engineers, judging by their uniform—were enjoying each other’s company and chatting away as they sipped at their beverages. The others were spread out, either reading books or going over their datapads. Everyone is at ease … relaxed.

As they should be.

The sound of a light hum hits your ears.

Two drones move past you, almost hitting your shoulder as they begin an apparent routine of their own. No one seems to pay them any notice, however … whatever they were doing.

>[INPUT ACTION]
>Leave
>>
>>2807031
>go talk to the 3 looking at the news feed
>>
>>2807037
supporting
>>
You approach the trio scrolling through the news feed.

The first thing you notice is just what they’re scrolling through: some interviews about a convention of sorts, located in a nearby system. It was an … odd feed, if nothing else. There seemed to be a range of women—and some men—dressed in what appeared to be costumes from what you can only assume to be children’s cartoons, albeit none that you actually recognize. The columns go into further detail, and a face of someone who you believe to be the interviewer instantly pops up in one corner as he addresses a woman—a rather pretty young woman, by any standard—clad in you can only describe to as a large reptilian creature with a crest and wings, while another woman stood next to her, wearing much, much less than what you would count as acceptable coverage. Both of them appeared to be holding a set of trophies aloft … although the reptile-monster-woman looked much happier compared to the other girl, whose mouth was scrunched as she held her—immediately noticing the why of the scowl—smaller trophy next to the woman’s larger one. The interviewer’s smile, though, looked like it had been fastened on.

Reading over their shoulders, you’re able to discern that it’s some kind of specialty convention dedicated to a … specific niche.

Whatever it was.

But now that you were closer, you’re able to tell that it definitely isn’t a news feed.

‘Nice costume.’

Your words get the attention of the three Navy staff members, who instantly get to their feet and throw respectful salutes up. Two of them are taller than you, their uniform indicating that they were field officers of a sort … and the one man among them that only came up to your brow clad in a manner similar to the staff members on the bridge. They seem to be aware of your identity, however, if the sudden hold of respect was any indication.

A pity; you would’ve liked to have pulled the same trick you had on Jetdom again.

‘We’re not playing hooky or anything!’

You cock an eyebrow, turning to the tallest of the lot … who is immediately—and physically—reprimanded by his friend with a swift heel to the leg, prompting an irritated look from the former. The staff member doing the kicking immediately turns his attention to you with a puffed chest and a repeat of the salute from before, apparently as an emphasis to the chasm of rank between the both of you.

‘Petty Officer Walder Kraig, sir. Honor to meet you, sir!’

The larger man follows. ‘Lieutenant Weston Rickert, sir.’

Then the last of them.

‘Scramble Officer Yogurt Dwennson, sir. Honor to meet the Hero of Rhysode.’

You wince, if only slightly. They don’t notice, their eyes refusing to meet your gaze.

Soldiers … from the starting sprint to the finishing line.

>Write-In
>>
>>2807327
>At ease gentlemen, no need to panic, i was just curious bout what you all were watching
>>
>>2807327
>Fall Out. (exasperated)
>>
>>2807353
+1
>>
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‘At ease,’ you return, raising a hand. You didn’t want to overstep your boundaries: you were still reliant on this crew for your operations, direct or indirect; you didn’t want to show that you were too much of a chump, though. ‘Just … curious about what you were scrolling through on the feed. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that about.’

One of them has their ears turn pink, as if in embarrassment.

‘It’s, uh, it’s … um … just something the three of us have, uh … have a bit of an investment in.’

‘Oh?’ You narrow yours eyes, focusing on the picture of the woman in the reptilian costume, now waving it around. ‘Doesn’t look like something a Trade House would be involved in …’

You’d be surprised,’ the tallest one, Rickert, chimes in, only to get another swift kick in the shins by his friend—Kraig, you believe?

‘He means, uh, personal investment, sir … emotional investment,’ Dwensson clarifies, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Just something that we, uh, um … er … generally enjoy. It’s, uh, ah …’

As he begins to trails off, you notice Lieutenant Rickert moving to pick up the slack, taking a step forward as Representative Officer would. If nothing else, you’re able to discern that he was the one in charge among the trio. Rickert’s build is slim, almost slender, with a mess of hair that looked like it could use a day of soaking or two. Straight, hooked nose and thin face tells you that he isn’t someone made to hoist the heavy load of a deployment … which allows you to somewhat narrow down his station on the Yamato, even in his off-duty fatigues.

‘We’re just scrolling through the highlights of a convention in another system,’ Rickert elaborates, prompting a sigh of relief from his friend. ‘We were hoping to get some R&R on the next maintenance stop, but since the 401st Named Chapter was assigned to us, we spent in on Jordan.’

He pauses for a moment.

‘Not that we’re, uh, blaming you, sir.’

‘I would hope not,’ you joke … and immediately regret your decision to do so, the two flanking crew members visibly stiffening at the implications. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt the three of you … that format just came off as a little … odd to me.’

‘Format?’

‘The … news site there.’

That prompts a dismissive snort from the only member of the trio shorter than you.

News site? Hardly. They only cover the commercial side of the whole thing; nothing about the fan contributions or opinions, everything about a bunch of girls wearing pleasure house variants of mon—’

It’s his turn to get a kick to the shins.

He’s more audible about his displeasure than his taller compatriot … who snickers behind a hand.

‘It’s more of a … collective forum of and for fan media, sir.

You raise an eyebrow. The terminology was interesting, at least … if a little over-elaborate.
>>
>>2811282
>Leave them to it
>Inquire further
>Talk about goings-on on the Yamato/Empire
>Inquire into their professional posts
>Write-In
>>
>>2811284
>...You were watching 4chan? Which board? I've had to drag Ryosuke off /m/ before and been banned from /starships/.
>>
>>2811284
>>Talk about goings-on on the Yamato/Empire
>>
>>2811284
>>Inquire further
i must know more
>>
>>2811335
This so this
>>
‘It’s a random ask, but … have you guys heard anything of note about?’

You’re instantly met with three confused expressions.

‘Anything … of note?’

They turns to each other, clearly unable to dig into your choice of phrasing. You move to make yourself clearer.

‘I mean, anything through the, uh,’ you try to find the right phrasing, ‘grapevine?

Your reward is three tilted heads and scrunched noses.

‘Grapevine?’

Clearing your throat, you move to hasten your movement into more common territory. It was already odd that you’d cut into their leisure time in such a random manner; you didn’t want to irritate them any further with questions that weren’t applicable.

‘I mean, you guys heard about anything … interesting lately?’

There’s a shake of the head from Rickert. Kraig follows right after, moving to receive your question.

‘Not since we left Jordan, no,’ he answers, sounding a little hesitant, ‘in fact, the only three things that we’ve actually kept up with is that the whole military wing of the Empire’s in a bit of a mess over retaliation tactics with the Alliance. With what happened with the Princes and the Princess … and now Rhysode, there’s talk about the Trade Houses putting pressure on the Emperor to get something more decisive and … opaque, but I don’t think that there’s much that’s been going on since. Even with Rhysode, there’s—’

Now it’s his turn to get a kick—no, two kicks—in the shin, one from each of his flanking Officers, followed by a grunt from Rickert, who gestures not-too-subtly in your direction. Kraig frowns … and almost stumbles forward, moving for what appeared to be an apology.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to—’

‘It’s all right,’ you assure, waving it off. You didn’t want to cause a scene before you actually grasped the data. ‘Please, go on.’

Rickert seems to take that as the prompt for him to take the stage.

‘Well, going into that,’ he sounds, with a similarity more akin to a gravel-maker than the usual timbre of the human voice. ‘I think that everyone’s just on edge. We haven’t actually gotten along with the Alliance for a good thousand years, but with all the proxy skirmishes along the border worlds the last few decades, everyone on board’s just waiting for an alert order from up top.’

You consider it for a moment.

‘That’s a … fair assessment, I guess.’

‘Hasn’t stop some of the folks from going into straight up conspiracy mode, though,’ the shortest of the bunch sounds, scowling. ‘If we’re borrowing your terminology, I guess that there’s quite a few members of personnel on board that’re trying to pin-point motivations on their own brainpower. Personally, I’m not into that kind of thing, but … well, people talk. That’s never going to change … or stop.’
>>
>>2811781
>‘Where would I be able to … find these pin-pointers?’
>‘Back to that thing on the screen …’
>‘You guys seem to be free. Is the rotation that efficient?’
>‘Thanks.’ (Leave)
>Write-In
>>
>>2811789
>>‘Where would I be able to … find these pin-pointers?’
>>
>>2811789
>>‘Where would I be able to … find these pin-pointers?’
>>
>>2811789
>‘Where would I be able to … find these pin-pointers?’
>>
>>2811796
This




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