Haven Shield Airbase - Darwin

General Commander Theodore Narra, the highest-ranking leader of the Havenite People's Protection Forces, had sent out a call through the permacrete corridors and tunnels of the military base, summoning the pilots of the 1st International Volunteer Battalion to the Operations Room. As he awaited their prompt arrival in the light of the holographic projectors on the walls and central table, the brown-skinned man of Filipino-Kurdish descent pondered the situation: He had been right in his belief that Red-Star would launch their strongest attack here.

Bringing up a holographic model of Red-Star's fleet, he counted them; 6 Floating Carriers, 6 Floating Dreadnoughts, and dozens more support ships and transports to deal a crushing blow to Haven's forces to the region.

As the pilots began to filter in, the General Commander got up in order to solemnly face the team; it would not do to be disrespectful to the men and women who depended on him. His first words were, "Volunteer Battalion, it is a great honor to finally meet you as one group."

A pause as he gestured to the holographic projection. "As of 08:00, military time, the Red-Star armada has reached the waters surrounding Darwin, just a short distance from the kinetic shields..." He swept his palm across the projector, causing it to change into an overview of the city that was surrounded by shimmering fields which overlapped with each other, and continued, "Their blockade is complete, and it is only the kinetic barriers projected by this base that stop all fast-moving objects from entering Darwin that prevent them from bombarding this place back to the stone age. That and their desire to take slaves for work and 'breeding'."

Theodore paused as he gestured once more, bringing up another hologram, that of a black NC entering in with a battalion of support vehicles and power-armored infantry. "Thankfully, I was able to slip a few reinforcements into Darwin; mostly members of the Havenite Women's Protection Forces. Haven Fleet Three is also moving in..." at the mention of Haven's Third Fleet, the hologram changed by itself to show a smaller armada of floating airships; Missile Cruisers, Destroyers, and Light NC Carriers.

He continued, "The Fleet, despite being small in numbers and size, is more mobile than Red-Star's own fleet, and carries its own complement of flying NCs. They're a campaign-winning asset all on their own because of that; thank the Ancients for putting Haven Burrow near a large cache of NC Cores. Nevertheless, victory in this war relies on us being able to inflict enough casualites at Red-Star that the Third Fleet has a chance of dealing a viable deathblow. This will not be easy due to the enemy's numbers advantage." Theodore then revealed his trump card. "However, we do have good news - we've found out the enemy's chief asset."

Theodore broguht up a hologram of a male redhead with purple eyes who looked to be no more than 18. "This is Osamu Akiyama, an artificial human built by Red-Star, much like our recent defector," he meant Terra. "Osamu's main shtick is that he can take control of NCs remotely using a 'biological computer' in his brain that can enter a Mech's 'Neural Net'. This ability means that any one, any one of our NCs can turn against us without warning. So be prepared to shoot each other down - non-fatally, of course."

He turned silent, before bringing up holograms of two people marked 'Alexander Sky' and 'Mako Shintai' and their Mecha. "I presume you know these people already; Red-Star's 'Chainbringer Team', composed of the 'Bane of Denver-Vegas' and his apprentice. Treat them as the danger that they are, but if they and their NCs can be captured just like they've nabbed so many pilots, do so - that's an order."

Theodore breathed out. "Now, it is the usual protocol for Red-Star to bombard the city with cruise missiles and other forms of ordnance in order to test the kinetic shields. The Science Division has assured us that they will fail and the barriers will hold, giving your team a few hours to interact and build a proper team. As I am a sane, rational, and somewhat humane officer, I do not object to this, so I am offering you three choices of pre-battle team-building."

The holoprojector on the central table then showed the base's bar, the base's Kurdish-style coffeehouse, and a Kurdish-style bathhouse. "The three options are the Bar - Yes, we have a Bar; I'm not a Muslim and those of us that are believe that large portions of Islamic Law no longer apply - the Coffehouse - we serve a lot of Ethiopian and Yemeni Coffee; supplies are courtesy of our allies - and of course, the Baths - fratrenization laws are relaxed in the area as long as you don't make someone pregnant or pass STDs or otherwise violate Ethical Hedonism..."

Haven Shield Airbase - Darwin

---

Chelsea walks into the operations room, with one of her ears listening to music and the other able to listen to the person who called her to the room. She looked a bit weary from all the moving around, since she had a headache somewhat. However, music usually calmed her down from the usual things. ”I wonder what is in for us today. Everyone’s highly worried about the Red-Star.” Chelsea thought to herself, as she got seated in one of the seats. She turned off her music since she saw the Red-Star Holographic projector of their size of their fleet. It made her jaw just drop in shock.

She nodded to what the General Commander had responded to them as a group. She didn’t want to interrupt Theodore Narra, since he had a commanding voice. Her face looked like it has a question but it can wait later until the meeting it is adjourned. Her eyes went wide when she heard the General Commander say ’breeding slaves’ of what the Red-Star will do her or anyone like her. She gulped a bit and didn’t like the perspective of being forced to be bred with by the enemies of her homeland. E-Eep… I don’t want to be a breeding slave for the Red-Star. T-That’s just terrifying.” Chelsea thought to herself. Her hands were shaking at that prospect, but because of her hands shaking her whole body starts shaking.

She calmed down a bit at the fleet of airships for Haven, which is smaller yes, but much more maneuverable as a whole. However, she couldn’t shake off the fact of what Theodore said. Mostly because she’s still a virgin, after all this time. All she was thinking about was that most of all. She was encouraged by what he said and she finally stopped shaking. She’s hopeful they could do it or this will be a very bad end for Haven. Her parents meant the world to her, even though she reconciled before she was called to Darwin. The smile she gave was genuine but had much baggage. Her attitude was a bit more somber and sad, however. ”U-Ugh… I feel sad now.” Chelsea thought to herself.

Chelsea turned back on her music so she could get her mind off on what the Red Star wants to do to any female they get their hands on. It relaxed her since it was rock music, but at least her other ear can hear perfectly. She couldn’t really help but listen to something that relaxes her. Her eyes did look directly at front and saw the holograms of the leaders of the Red-Star’s Attack. ”I will definitely try to capture them so they can feel the same thing they done to us, sir.” Chelsea said, since the ones who can probably capture them easier are the ones who will need her repairs.

She hated how many of the Haven pilots were nabbed by Red-Star. However, what cooled her down of the blatant hate she had for Red Star was what was said afterwards, in terms of the last part. ”I’ll rather pick the middle option, the Coffee House, Theodore.” Chelsea responded about the entire thing. She didn’t really feel like she should be going into a bar or a bathhouse at this time. She did need something to wake her up, the meeting made her more terrified than anything.

The facility was quiet, or about as quiet as a military structure might be, all surveillance quietly watching for any possible intrusion. Strangely, though, today it would find that the reverse was occurring. For soon, there was the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and then a loud SLAM!! The outer wall of the facility suddenly expanded and tore apart, revealing a glowing palm from within a smoke-filled room.



Alarm sirens began to sound as a red Neural Combatant emerged. Humanoid, with spikes and edges that would cut anything they touched, and flight system to increase its travel options. This machine was the new gem in the army of the the Red-Star, an NC simply known as Id, a machine of killer instinct designed to work in congruence with a pilot capable of meshing with its input at high levels and withstanding the strain that came with it. Well, it worked...but the pilot had no intention of flying their colors.

Her secondary generator needed a moment to cool down before being put to the next task at hand. This escape plan would utilize Id's capabilities to the fullest, and deliver her from this country, this corporation, faster than they could have any hope of containing her. She made for the coast at normal speeds, firing behind her with a stolen plasma rifle whenever she had radar contact. Accuracy was not as important as occupying them. If she delayed too long here, they could mobilize more NCs, or even someone capable of standing against her at an equal-footing. That could not be allowed.

While Id made for the southern coast, the radio had been full of chatter on her wavelength. Red-Star command, those of whom were to have been her comanders, demanded she return immediately or face destruction. She ignored them. Her attention was more on the enemy combatants who seemed to have forgotten they were on the same channel as her, at least until an officer shouted at them for being incompetent. It was an honest mistake, but a foolish one. It let her in on a few of their plans, bought her some extra time. Soon, the red NC was in position...and stopped.

It was time, the big push. Terra activated flight engine overclock-

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The base intercom whistled, halting the dream prematurely. Well, not so much a dream as a recent memory. This was her reality now.

This was Haven.

"All NC pilots to the Operations Room. I repeat, all NC pilots to the Operations Room, immediately."

She had been asleep to recuperate energy that she needed, to re-organize her brain, and to try and put behind her the unfortunate facts of her escape from the Red-Star facility. As Terra sat up from the bed in a black tanktop and cargo pants she had received from supplies, she had on a glum face because putting it to rights. Can you guess which two out of the three goals were achieved in her sleep? If you're wondering how her escape ended, half the base knew the details, by now. She overclocked her propulsion engines with the special generator outfitted to her NC and outran the Red-Star forces, from Southern Japan to the Northern tip of Australia, where she was naturally spotted by Havenite forces and simply waited for them there. She did not so much as surrender as agree to be escorted Terra did not give up control easily, the reason she pretty much demanded to be on speaking terms with someone in charge to be treated decently, instead of as a prisoner. After all, that was why she was here.

Getting out of bed now, Terra ran her hand through her hair and got a handle on her mood. She was projecting a depressing sort of blue when she sighed, and that had to stop. They didn't see that, but it was apparent to her, and she didn't want to feel that or really show that. They needed her to be in control. She needed to be in control of the situation. Since this sounded important, she elected to get into the only uniform she had, her white and black flight suit, the same one she had come in. It was supposedly reminescent of something from an old car show, but while some people had referenced it to her, she never really saw, so who could compare? The way they described this 'Stig' character, he didn't seem human, anyway. Terra was genetically-engineered and everything they've said about him was far more implausible.

One thing that had surprised her, coming into this place: Although people were uneasy about her before, the people of Haven were a kinder breed than those she had known in her life. Well...apart from her parents. Still, it was unexpected, and one of the reasons she'd opted for sleep was that she needed to figure out how to deal with this. These were all strangers to her. Indeed, the commanding officer was most pleased to see them, while her commander punished tardiness in her peers. People shoudn't run meetings late, though, so this was all a mixed message to her. At least the meeting could get started. It looked as though Red-Star had followed her, or even if not, they had much invested in this area.

It's the price you pay for free intel and a fully-equipped pilot. People start to notice you.

It had been her intention to come to Haven for a long time, never really seeing any wisdom in Red-Star's methodology. This, she had kept to herself and her plan was executed without warning. It was the only realistic way to do it, even if neither side was prepared to deal with it. Now then... This base was basically surrounded, at least insofar as the water was concerned, and only the reactive barriers were keeping off the heavy stuff, but then...these did not repel other forms of attack. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the enemy - their enemy, her enemy - would use other tactics to try and bring the shields down. Commander Narra's briefing was startling at least one of the other pilot, especially at the mention of breeding slaves. The other girl's breath took on nervous yellow waves that stood out among the dull gray hum of machinery around them. Despite all this, the Commander himself was in high spirits, speaking with waves of calming green.

Terra made it a point to not be influenced by others, but it was nice to see that command was keeping its head in this situation. Narra began to name off some expected enemies that, frankly, were already well-known to her, and her to them. It was unfortunate, but training in the same army will allow others to understand things about you. Still, he was rather pleased with himself, in that he'd managed to bring in some reinforcements and obtain the knowledge that he had. You can guess where at least some of that came from. Something that Terra didn't like, though: Commander Narra seemed to want pilots and NC's captured almost as much as Red-Star did, though for different reasons, such as interrogation and resources. That said, it was problematic. And furthermore, he continued...

Damn. If they really want me to curb the more lethal half of my training to their own ends, this is going to make things complicated. My NC is certainly geared to destroy. It's modular to any handheld weapon, it has deadly capabilities as much as versatilities, and- Wait, WHAT did he just say?

For once, Terra was properly confused, and...she wasn't really hiding it, either. She tilted her head to the side a bit, looking at the commander like he'd grown a third nostril. He'd assured them that the barriers would hold against missle bombardments and the usual preliminary attack moves, which was why he wanted them to spend the time they had before deployment on a...social meeting? And...their options were... What was going on here? Is this how things were here? A bar, a coffeeshop, a bathhouse... Finally, after taking all that had been said in, THIS was where Terra broke her silence.

"Commander, this puts me in a most awkward position. I don't know anybody or really much of anything about Haven, Darwin, or - let's be honest - Australia. I don't know how to even approach this. I haven't really done any of those things. And apart from that...don't you have any tea?"

---

”All pilots of the 1st International Volunteer Battalion, please report to the Operations Room. I repeat, all pilots of the 1st International Volunteer Battalion, please report to the Operations Room.”

---

Cassius stirred slightly, though he remained slumped over in the pilot seat of his NC, sleeping off a late night and hangover, like most nights. He groggily reached out to hit a non-existent alarm clock, then rolled over slightly to go back to sleep.

”Pilot Cassius, you have been summoned to meet in the Operations Room. Courtesy demands you get there less than thirty minutes late. Please get up.” A female, robotic voice spoke out from inside the pilot compartment, finally rousing Cassius properly.

”Yer voice is’z welcome as always, Oh-Cee. They say why they wan’me?”

”No, Pilot Cassius. This is the first time you have been summoned in the six months, three days, and four hours you have been here, however. You are currently: One minute and four seconds late.”

Cassius grumbled, before nodding to himself, and opening up Oh-Cee for him to exit. He stretched, and groaned in pain, both from his back creaking upon stretching, and from the throbbing pain in his head. He overdid it, as always, but he didn’t care. He looked back at Oh-Cee, who closed her compartment on her own, and he couldn’t help but smile at her. She looked better than she had in years, and run much better too. He wasn’t no slouch with a toolkit, but there’s only so much you can do without proper tools to use on an NC. A screwdriver won’t do squad to this monster, afterall. She had automatically noticed him looking her over, her red eye focusing in on him, before slowly fading as she deactivated her ocular systems.

”Enjoyin’ yer chassis? Paintjob done well? If y’need anythin’, tell me. I’ll do it ‘fore I go drinkin’.” He asked, genuinely concerned about the NC, since if she wasn’t at tip-top shape, that might impact them in combat, or even just speaking to each other. She got moody, or so he thought.

”Yes, Pilot Cassius. I am performing at higher levels than I have at any point in the past two years. Though I’m not sure blue is the most tactical colour to choose in such an environment.” Her optical turned back on, before looking towards whatever part of her chassis that she could see, since she couldn’t actually move any limbs without the input of Cassius. He smiled at this more, and nodded.

”Eh, who cares. You’ll be th’blue blur they see ‘fore they blow up, it’ll be fine. Glad y’feel good, Oh-Cee. Let th’techies know if y’want somethin’ while I’m gone. That’s an order, yeah?” He was being sarcastic, of course. It’s not like he could outrank a machine, but as he expected, she played along, like she always did.

”Yes, Pilot Cassius sir. You are currently three minutes and twel- thirteen seconds late. Best you get moving.” She responded, as plainly as ever. Cassius knew better though, she was being friendly, as always. He nodded to her, before saluting her lazily, and turning to go back to his room to find a change of clothes.
Oh-Cee stayed active for a while, looking around the hangar, focusing in on mechanics, other NCs, and whatever else caught her attention. Eventually, she turned her ocular systems off once more, and went back into hibernation, internally sighing at how late her Pilot was going to be.

Cassius smelt like booze and smoke, more than usual too. He must’ve gone extra-hard last night, not that he could remember. He stumbled into his room rubbing his head, pain almost becoming unbearable for him, much to his surprise. His groans eventually stopped as he carefully placed an ice-pack against his head, then, while holding it in place, taped it to his head so he could have both of his arms free. The coldness was refreshing, and shook him of his groggy, tired mood. He gathered up his cleanest set of clothes, folded them neatly, and placed them on his arm, before grabbing a towel, and walking towards the showers. He needed to clean himself, he’d probably make half his squad retch if they met him as he was, and that’d be quite the bad impression, he thought.

One shower later, Cassius stretched once again, this time his back didn’t hurt as much, neither did his head, which he was certainly thankful for. He dried himself off, then quickly got dressed in a standard blue shirt and his trademark black leather vest, as well as some cargo pants that seemed mostly cleaned. Least they smelt it, at least. He felt around his vest, and smiled as he felt what he was looking for; four canteens of booze, all different to each other, all coming from different parts of the world. He pulled out one, popped the lid and took a swig, making a face at the burning taste as the liquid went down his throat, before he put it back into the inner pocket of his vest, and continued on. After dropping off his dirty clothes in his room, he grabbed a cigar, lit it, plopped it in his mouth, and walked on towards the Operation Room. Time to meet his new team, and he was only… seventeen minutes late. Well, least it wasn’t more than thirty minutes.

He entered silently, nodding to whoever looked his way, ice-pack still taped to his head, then puffed on his cigar once more, before falling in line behind the squad, easily able to look over their heads at the holo-table. He took in the information with a critical eye, making note of enemy positions, unit compositions, stuff like that. His normally placid face changed to one of anger at the mention of Osamu, then just as quickly, returned to being placid and uncaring. He looked around for the supposed gene-bred that the CO had mentioned, but failed to find them with a normal scan of his eye. Guess he had to find out the hard way, not that that bothered him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle at the mention of using the bar as a place to socialise, but quickly silenced himself, and listened to a pair of younglings before he spoke up himself. One of them was uncomfortable in the country, probably a new arrival to help defend, and the other wanted tea. That couldn’t stand, the bar was the only suitable place to socialise, afterall, and he’d have to convince them of that.

”Well, th’bars a good place as any t’socialise, methinks. I’ll shout yaz if y’wanna come with. Don’t got a stomach fer tea or coffee, sadly, but grog is another matter all’t’gether.” He smiled at the squad, took a puff of his cigar, pulled out one of his canteens and took a long and large swig, before swallowing, and blowing out the smoke he held in the entire time. ”Name’s Caz, I basically live at th’bar. Pleasure t’meet yaz.” He couldn’t help but grin in pride at his useless party trick.

---

Isaac moved through the corridors of the base with a slight haste, his pace suggesting he had somewhere to be but that he wasn't exactly running late. His face was blank and disinterested, which he tried to harden into a facade of steeled determination should anyone he passed try to get a good look at him. Better safe than sorry, even with minor personnel that he may never interact with again. His demeanor immediately livened up, as if on cue, when he filed into the Operations Room at the tail end of the group; his eyes flittering about as he took note of the other members of the battalion. Nevertheless, he still kept quiet, for the most part, dipping politely into a seat as he waited for the commanding officer to elaborate on why they were summoned. The officer - Narra, right? - didn't look too cheerful, and the hologram behind him seemed to confirm it - Red Star was on the move.

He listened attentively as Commander Narra briefed them on the situation, wavering only to glance back at the absolute behemoth of a man that walked in late. Isaac had expected a disadvantage; Haven being ragtag and disorganized seemed to be their speciality, but he wasn't prepared to hold off an entire fleet without adequate reinforcements. Their own armada looked positively puny by comparison to Red Star, but Narra seemed to be suggesting that they had an advantage in NC numbers. A good enough advantage as any.

Isaac actively leaned forward in his seat when the commander moved on to enemy personnel, finally exhibiting more than a mere spark of genuine interest. These were his targets. Osamu was the main priority, as it stands, given his hijacking ability. That sort of power was a major asset for Red Star no matter what front they acted on, Haven or otherwise. Plus, he definitely fell in the range of "too dangerous to be kept alive"; Isaac would have a viable excuse for taking him out if questioned. The other two were obvious targets for elimination in their own right, but the recommendation of capturing over killing left Algernon at a bit of a disadvantage.

But then, he was caught off guard. Was this a joke? The enemy was all but pounding on their door right now and the commander expected them to just... socialize? He furrowed his brow as he did a quick scan of the room. No one saw a problem with this? The biggest concern raised so far had been the lack of tea. Promoting unit cohesion was one thing, but this was a bit out of place. He had to say something, but what? Any grievances he raised would draw unwanted attention from the others, and he couldn't risk that so soon.

"Um, sorry, but I don't think heading to a bar is very conductive to the mission," Isaac peeped up, keeping his voice shy and unoffensive, "You can't exactly perform your best in combat while intoxicated." So much for staying in the background. Now that huge guy - Caz - was going to have a problem with him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to put his life on the line with a bunch of drunks that can barely pilot.

Zahra sat solemnly through the briefing, listening intently to Commander Narra's words. Though there were native Havenites in First International Volunteers' Battalion, this was the battalion for 'foreign guests' like Zahra. Perhaps because of this, or perhaps because of the way she dressed, Zahra had been getting queer looks from some members of the other battalions. Perhaps they found her mode of dress terribly outdated, or perhaps they suspected her, an ambassador of Al-Amir, of being a spy or otherwise here for some ulterior motive. While it was true that she acted on Al-Amir's behalf and in Al-Amir's best interests, it was a common ethical fallacy that one's own best interests were always at odds with the best interests of others. But now wasn't the time to be pondering such moral conundrums. Zahra noticed a younger woman sitting next to her tense up at the mention of 'breeding slaves', and placed a reassuring, gloved hand over the younger woman's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Rape was an unfortunate truth of war. One could say that this was a result of the modern world; after the bombs fell, and apocalypse came, many relinquished their moral convictions and religions, seeing this world as a world that God had abandoned. What did you do if the supposed 'End of the World' had come and gone, and yet humanity remained? Yet for Zahra, assuming that this world was more mad than it had ever been was also a fallacy. Evil existed in every era. Every stage of Man's history had its fair share of saints, sinners, and martyrs: heroes, villains, and the innocent dead.

As the briefing continued, Zahra's eyes narrowed at the mention of an enemy pilot who could hijack control of NC's. This would be problematic, as Zahra worried about having either her NC, or her drones wrested from her control. She held no delusions that she could fend off such an attack easily, and worried about the prospect of having their defensive formations compromised in such a way. In a way, Zahra pitied the children who were forced to fight and be modified in this unnatural way. Then she imperceptibly raised an eyebrow at Commander Narra's suggestion that they capture the enemy pilots alive, if possible. In a desperate defense, mercy was the last thing Zahra expected. WHile Zahra commended the sentiment and increased her regard for Haven's founding principles, which no doubt had a hand in guiding such a decision, despite being a 'secularly-founded' government, the majority of which tended to focus on consolidation of power, expediency, and survival whatever the moral cost, she herself could make no such promises on the battlefield. The fortunes of battle lay in the hands of God, as did all things.

Commander Narra's closing remark, however, seemed to stir the battalion more than the descriptions of the impending threat. Some wanted coffee, some wanted tea, some wanted booze. Zahra stood up slowly. In a soft-spoken voice, she added to the conversation, "Coffee sounds like a wonderful idea," she winked at the young woman next to her, the one who seemed to be nervous, then turned to the other young woman, "And do not worry, I have been to both Ethiopia and Yemen, their coffeehouses are well-equipped with tea, though you'll probably have to call it 'chai'. And though we are socializing, we are still in the process of planning a defense, so we should keep our wits about us. This is an opportunity for us to understand each other at our best, and at our highest level of performance. There will be time enough to celebrate, in whatever manner we may individually prefer, after the battle is won." She looked to the tall, older gentleman, hoping he'd acquiesce. She stared intently at the flask that he had just taken a swig out of, "Besides, I'm sure the coffeehouse will not object if you 'bring your own'."

---

Kxeyun stands and thinks things over, fiddling with her necklace. "So we're gonna fight soon? I wanna keep everyone safe... Capturing the enemy. Hopefully, I can convert them to our cause!" her thoughts flick back to her defecting, the Denver NC. "I never wanted to kill Jack, he was my friend... I had to, I had to. He wouldn't respond to my hails, he wanted to capture me. I would've been punished for my crimes... Alongside that... I had to go to Haven. If we lose here, Red-Star would capture everyone!" images flash through her mind, alongside that memory. That memory, it hurt her. The Denver NC was on the ship, she got in her NC. The large machine raised up and tackled the enemy from behind, slamming it down onto the deck. She punched it over and over until it grabbed her arms and electrocuted them. Her NC's nerves were shot, pain flooded through her. She reached out her arms, just about touching the monitor. She slowly moved her arms in, her NC followed her exact moves. She gripped the head of the Denver NC and moved her arms to tear off its head, it followed as expected. She raised up, NC head still in her hand. The large machine reared its head into the sky and roared, mouth exposing itself. Then something COMPELLED her to continue. She went back down and dove the large NC's mouth right into the piloting area of that NC and crushed its jaws shut. Jack died screaming and terrified, body pulverized in some places, dropping dead out of the NCs mouth. Then Sahaquiel shut down.

Upon finishing recalling that memory, she begins to cry silently, muttering "I never wanted to kill Jack... I never wanted to kill Jack... He was my friend... I hate this world... I hate these companies... I gotta pilot Sahaquiel unless I want more to die..." Her composure is finally regained. "I suggest we do capture the enemies. Not because we want to get info from them and that reason only, but to prevent their death. That being said, coffee would be nice to have before the battle. Beer would make everyone sluggish and unable to fight. Oh, and Sahaquiel is perfectly capable of holding another person in it, if you don't want me to utilize that, I understand perfectly." she proceeds to eye the fleets "Red-Star may outnumber us, but I am confident we can out-skill them cause we got experience and strength! Sahaquiel is the strongest prototype NC there is and I am willing to prove it!" she smiles and wipes the tears away. "Thank you Denver-Vegas, you gave me this chance. Let me repay it to you by winning against Red-Star, then you guys see why I left."

Water blasted down from the shower head. Possibly the best thing about the base in Haven was the water pressure, she thought.. The water was piping hot as it fell from her hair, trickling down her face and dripping from her chin. Her hands were posted up on the permacrete walls of the stall and her head fell between her shoulders. She let the water fall upon her, as if to wash some imagined stench, a stain of battle from herself. She stayed like that for a while, lost in her memories. She liked to replay memory clips in her retinal HUD system, afforded her when she lost an eye in combat during her second infantry term. She liked to do this while she bathed, or anytime she had a spare moment to do so. She also remembered from them that repetition is the real reaper of rewards, and that proper planning prevented piss poor performance. The water suddenly stops and the GC is heard hailing the 1st International Volunteer Battalion to OP. Her head sank lower as the last of the water had its last bout with gravity, and lost as it always does.. She stood and ran her hands over both shoulders and down to the elbows to swat away the last of water. Her fingers traversing the contours of her Reflexx terminals and scars alike, and she had plenty of both. She pulled herself from the stall as she passed through the latrine, cutting through the thick steam as she passed. It was thick enough to make breathing labored, and the water was so scalding that her skin was nearly red. She swiped a towel from the rack and threw it around her waste haphazardly, pinning it steady with one hand. She made her way down the barracks the short distance to her room, automated door closing behind her.

"End data log 473" she sad, closing the video in her HUD while she began to dress herself. What am I even doing here?? she thought to herself.. International VOLUNTEER Battalion.. exactly that.. she thought. Then she threw on a sports bra top, rubbing the towel across the back of her neck and threw it in her dirty bin. She swiped the hex key from her desk and placed it in her left elbow terminal. She turned it until it clicked twice, making a minor adjustment before heading to the OP.

Water still beaded on her skin as she made her way in to the Operations room for the briefing. She was one of the first to arrive, taking a seat midway through the room. She fiddled with her hex key until the GC began his briefing. She didn't turn to acknowledge the other pilots as they filtered in. She would silently initiate a record order for her HUD to record the briefing. She had not always done this, but it became habit as she had accumulated several instances where the need had arose and she was behind lines with zero in the way of COMMS.. Having done so she found the readily available information was invaluable, on occasion.. She would take special interest in the image of this man- "This is Osamu Akiyama, an artificial human built by Red-Star, much like our recent defector," taking a snapshot of his image. She also took a special interest in the mention of a defector? Soft overtones of "be prepared to shoot each other down - non-fatally, of course." which caused her interest to peak, and her tongue slid across the contours of her teeth drunk with intrigue...

She didn't speak out during the briefing, nor did she turn when the other pilots did. She was a bit surprised at the timing of this suggested rendezvous for a drink.. her talents could be better utilized given the current situation, but then again, she liked shotty odds so perhaps they did have time. She half agreed with Isaac, being perfectly content with the thought of being intoxicated during battle..

Alexei d' Vexille

Alexei had just finished having a shower when the intercom blared, summoning all NC pilots to Ops. He dried his hair with the towel thoroughly, ruffling his tousled locks. He then looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, towel slung over his shoulders. He pulled a cheesy grin, and then slipped on his jockstrap. He then grabbed his pilot suit, the same one his father wore, and d'Vexilles before him. Family heirloom, if anything, just like Vectis. The thought of both wearing and piloting tradition centuries older than he was sometimes crossed Alexei's mind when he slipped into the yellow trimmed black and red suit.

He zipped up and then picked up his helmet, catching himself in the mirror again. No cheesy grin this time. The memory of his father was like a cloud that hung over Alexei when he put on the suit. He sighed, but knew even if the other pilots weren't suited up yet, it didn't do for a son of d'Vexille to be unprepared. He slipped a pellet of gum in his mouth and then walked out, leaving his room and headed down the corridors to get to Ops. When he arrived, he was one of the last pilots filing inside. He didn't greet anyone unless spoken too, and just hung on the outskirts of the briefing, leaning against the wall and listening to General Commander Narra. As he paid attention, he noted his comrades around the room and assessed their reactions-- Nothing seriously analytical, just to get an idea of their personalities.

When Narra described the primary asset of Red Star; Osamu Akiyama, Alexei's brow furrowed. He didn't at all like the thought of control over Vectis being wrested from him. That alone just made the strategy-- if it can be called that, of pre-emptively assaulting the enemy and closing the distance swiftly seem less insane. At least then, if Vectis is taken over, he would be at too far a distance to injure comrades. Sure, Vectis had combat sniping capability, but that was for on the move medium distances. And there surely was an NC that actually specialised in long range engagement. He just hoped they won't kill him.

Then again; would dying really be worse than being a Red Star captive?

Alexei then pursed his lips when Narra described the Chainbringer Team. More so when he ordered everyone to try and capture them. Well, he only said 'if they can be captured'. Anyone will understand if we kill them so we don't get killed. That's just war, baby. Alexei thought, blowing a bubble and popping it back into his mouth. He folded his arms and then thought it over. But I guess, if we have to use disabling force on each other in the event of a takeover, it would be some practice... What a fucked up situation.

Then amidst all that, Alexei couldn't believe what he was hearing. Time to relax and hang out? He shrugged internally, whilst watching everyone's reactions and hearing what they said. Most of them opted for the coffeehouse, one of them who introduced himself as Caz-- 'the resident drunk' more like, opted for the bar. Thankfully, nobody opted for the bathhouse. It didn't really make sense anyways. Imagine if Red Star took down the shields early and caught them with their pants down-- Literally. Alexei smirked at the thought, however silly and awkward that outcome would be. After all, humour was hard enough to come by without making it yourself.

Alexei didn't really care to vocalise his opinion, since everyone else had made up their minds. The coffeehouse was the popular choice, and he'd just be stacking on top of that. Pointless. However, as hard as it was to believe they had this ample amount of time to prepare by socialising, Alexei was sort of grateful. He actively focused on getting something decent to eat and drink while finding someone to watch his back while he possibly charges headfirst into danger. This distraction what he needed to avoid thinking about what a waste of time the situation was-- That's not what he thought. It's what my father would have thought. He said to himself with a tang of annoyance.

Por Dios, La Patria, El Rey!

Spain remains alive in the hearts of all men and women, even those who do not have the blood of the peninsula, there are those who were adopted by our empire from before. And even as an empire fell and a corporation took over, we are still Spanish. And we will not let greed rule.

---------------------------

Encarnación ignored all things around her, strapping the armor on her suit. With one foot on the top of her foot locker and another providing her balance, she could hear Covenant speak to her easily as she adjusted some of the armored plates on her thighs

“My lady, do you wish for some advice from the Holy Book?”

The lady grunted as she made one final adjustment to her armor. She patted it well and said, straightening her back

“Yes. Could you please recite the passages that shall make us both ready for war…”

“Very well, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Covenant.”

After giving her armor one last inspection and a quick look around as well, she sighed as she started to listen to the scriptures, the lady making her way out of her room.

“Put on yourself the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s scheme.”

She passed by some of her soldiers and officers from the war for Spain. They saluted her swiftly as she returned it with the nod of her head

“You are my war club, my weapon for battle - with you I shatter nations, with you I destroy kingdoms.”

Kingdoms. Will I ever be a queen with a kingdom? Will there ever be a chance that these corporations shall go away as the tides do, as they ever do on the shores of Andalusia? Of Valencia? Catalonia? The places her people came from?

“Prepare for war! Rouse the warriors! Let all fighting men draw near and attack.”

She finally made it to the Operations Room. There she would receive her orders and speak with other pilots. She winced at that and felt a set of jaws come around her heartstrings. Was she truly a hero or a traitor? Perhaps something like the man with the mask from the ancient Watchmen comics?

“Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

And finally she spoke, keeping her voice down so she could hear her words alone before finally bringing herself forward to participate in the calm before the storm.

“I will gather all the nations to Jerusalem to fight against it; the city will be captured, the houses ransacked, and the women raped. Half of the city will go into exile, but the rest of the people will not be taken from the city.”

She paused for a little while. Then she looked to the rosary she wore around her neck as well as the Sacred Heart of Jesus painted on the armor that shielded her breast. She spoke to them

“Beat easy and let me stand firm. Bless me with bravery, with might and with honor. My duty on this Earth is not over yet and allow me, oh God, to be victorious and glad. Bless my hands, my mind and my weapons. Let go of nothing that will protect me and grant me the righteousness I need to be a good soldier. Firmly take my hands and grant them the power to end life that may stand against me and my people.

Save me and all that I hold dear. And in return, oh God, I devote my heart, my mind and my liberty to you. Amen.”

She crossed herself and joined the squad, entering silently with a smile as her Covenant told her, a whisper in her ear

“Por sus crímenes contra su gente y por mi deseo de servirle, Mi Señora, deje que mis armas rugen y mi armadura proteja.”

Cody's head jerked up as the alarm sounded. He was sitting down, head slumped down on a desk with his arms shielding his face in a light state of sleep before being awoken by said alarm. As he slowly got up from his seat, he performed a mental check of everything he had on him, making sure that he was prepared for anything. He grabbed his helmet and slipped it onto his head before locking it with his armor. His vision was now occupied by his helmet's HUD, showing the status of his surroundings and his own armor. He walked over to the door and looked back at the room one last time before opening the door and leaving.

A few minutes later he had made it into the Operations room, where the General Commander was waiting for them, along with two other female pilots who had made it there before him. He stopped beside the taller of the two female pilots, and proceeded to listen to the briefing. As Narra briefed them on the Red-star attack force, he was actually worried. A force that size could easily decimate the entire city had the shields not been there. But even with the shields it would be only so long until they fell. Fortunately, Haven did have reinforcements, in the form of a ground battalion and a fleet of carriers of support ships. Although they were outgunned and outnumbered by Red-star, they could manage to hold out if they play their cards right. However, what really caught his attention was the three Red-star operatives, specifically Osamu Akiyama.

If he captures one of our NCs, it could turn the tide of the whole battle against us... Cody thought to himself.

To the others in the room, it would perhaps appear that he was not paying attention to the briefing, crossing his arms and bowing his head slightly while staying dead silent. But in reality, he was absorbing all of the information that Narra was giving, thinking about potential scenarios and strategies. Suddenly, Cody snapped back into reality as the General Commander offered them choices for "pre-battle team building". He was surprised at Narra's odd, to say the least, decision for what to do before the incoming battle. They should be spending what valuable time they have for preparation, not for unimportant social meetings. It appears that his concern was not only limited to himself, as the girl beside him also voiced her concern. After she finished, he spoke for the first time since the start of the meeting.

Cody: I agree with her. Shouldn't preparations for the battle be our primary concern at this moment?

He paused for a moment before approaching Narra and producing an electronic tablet from his person and offering it to Narra.

Cody: However, if you insist that we participate instead in social activities, may I request that you give me a copy of the battle plans so that I may study and analyze it further?

Haven Shield Airbase - Darwin



The Haven Base Coffeehouse was surprisingly empty of military personnel, although a few civilian bureaucrats and janitorial personnel were still in the area, sipping gourmet coffee and tea while eating sandwhiches, salads, and pasta. The chairs were clean and smooth, except for the ones which were upholstered and cushioned. The lighting, too, was warm and friendly and smooth jazz played through invisible speakers. The barista was a young-looking man with blond hair and smooth skin who looked at the incoming team of NC Pilots with a smile, before giving his greetings.



"So, faces new and old," the young-looking man said. "My name's Joey Glory; been serving coffee for a few decades now - Red-Star gave me rejuvenating treatments back when I was serving coffee to them; Haven still does so from time to time. Basically, I'm just your regular civilian whose skills in coffee-making make him valuable to multiple parties." A smile, "Although of course, Haven has been the best paymasters a guy like me can ask for; they can tell what coffee is good or bad without being snobbish!"

The smile widened into a grin as Joey continued, "So, who wants coffee, tea, tea with milk, Spanish-style chocolate, and of course, cake? Note that I've been tasked to make sure you all fight with full stomachs too; General Commander Narra believes that troops who aren't distracted by starvation can focus on the enemy ahead. So I offer sandwhiches, salads, pasta, and an all-day breakfast of eggs, hotcakes - or were those pancakes? - bread and sausages - with Halal and Kosher options! Not just that, but for our Arabian guest," he looked at Zahra, "We have Camel Meat and Milk as Australia has a population of imported Camels from Pre-War times; they're pretty much a pest species."

Cody Ang had been given the datapad of the battleplan that he had requested from Theodore; the plan for the defense was basic, with no obvious flourishes or surprises. Red-Star was anticipated to attack from the West parts of Darwin, with a supporting onslaught in the north, where Theodore and Lucille planned to cover the rest of the International Volunteers' rear. This attack would take the form of their NCs slowly going through the Kinetic Barriers (which repelled only fast-moving objects) in order to escort their main troop transports and support vehicles; it was already anticipated that even with NC escorts, the enemy would suffer horrific casualties.

The International Battalion themselves would be stationed to meet this main onslaught and the enemy NCs, supported by Havenite conventional forces; mostly artillery and rocket-armed infantry situated behind defensive emplacements; there would be two such lines in front of Haven Shield Airbase, where a last stand would be made if the International Volunteers could not check the enemy onslaught. Mariano's 'Spanish Battalion' would be situated in the Southern portion of the city, where the Havenite Third Fleet would be arriving mid-battle. From behind the second line was the 'Haven Shield' Airbase itself, where the Kinetic Shields that protected the city were situated.



It didn't need to be said what would happen if the enemy pierced the second defensive line and attacked the airbase...

@Andre Valias@AzenExile@FalloutJack@Landaus Five-One@Metatrooper@Scribe of Thoth@Stern Algorithm@Sgt Vandingo@Senhara@Arkitekt@AzenExile

At the Coffee House - Darwin

---

Chelsea was grateful for Zahra’s reassuring gloved hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. She felt safer that she has people within the Haven that knew not to be as afraid of that. It caused her to sigh of relief. She did notice all the other people, which was around in the meeting room and they all had different ideas on things. ”I-I’m grateful there’s someone here to reinsure me of my fears.” Chelsea thought while looking at Zahra. She had a smile on her face.

Afterwards, she heard everyone’s ideas including the one next to her, which winked at her after what she had said. Since the Coffeehouse sounded like the best area to go for her since she doesn’t really want to drink alcohol, which it’s only because her parents never drank. She smiled at her again. ”T-Thanks. I can’t wait to try out the coffee then, since you expert at the tastes.” Chelsea said to Zahra. That was mostly a response to what she said to the other female in the room, which looked confused. She looked at her and saw her black hair and saw her dark violet eyes. She waved at Terra and wished to know why she’s so confused.

Chelsea’s eyes wandered as if looking at everyone who spoke aloud in the room. However, they were dismissed to go to the coffee house she waved goodbye to Theodore. She was happy to meet new people since she liked meeting new people. All the people in the International Volunteer Battalion were different in how they did things. She did notice the old guy, who looked like her grandpa somewhat, which was drinking out of a silver canteen. She heard what Zahra said towards him and kinda blinked. ”U-Uh, don’t tell me that old tall guy is drinking alcohol..” Chelsea thought to herself, while staring at him only for a second.

---

Chelsea arrived at the coffee house and saw the person who greeted her and everyone else within the platoon. Her eyes mostly stared at the fact, he was a blonde hair guy and smiled kindly towards him. ”Ah, nice to meet you Joey Glory. My name is Chelsea R. Steiner.” Chelsea said, to respect the fact he did introduce himself. Her eyes looked around everything and was pretty nice looking and had her hooked from the onset of what she was smelling. She had a minucle look of curiosity when he described what selections he has on offer. Her head nodded at the fact of what he said about starvation is bad. ”I would like a coffee, black with a hint of honey in it. As well, three pancakes with eggs and sausage please?” Chelsea asked, kindly towards Joey Glory.

She looked at the people who came in with her and smiled at them. She sat down at a table, which was empty since she needed to sit down on something soft. Her music was still blaring through one of her headphones into her ear. She realized it was kinda rude, therefore she turned it off while she put her hand on her forehead since she was still tired and needed a wake up call. The headphones retracted again and went back around her neck and looked at people walking in. In terms of the ones that followed her to the Haven’s Coffeehouse. She waved at her platoon, with a friendly smile since she enjoys having around them. ”Ugh, I wish I gotten more sleep… But I couldn’t really get much sleep today. The maintenance check on my NC took forever. I know it needed to be checked out but why for hours on end?” Chelsea thought to herself. She yawned a bit and stretched to wake herself a bit more but it didn’t really work out. Her eyes blinked a bit and smiled at Joey Glory, which will be getting her order while looking at him.

Por Dios, La Patria, El Rey!

There is nothing greater than God and nothing lesser than my land and my people. For these three things, my life is devoted to the good fight.

Mariano never registered the gnawing pain of the wound to her right shoulder quite properly. She also couldn't bring herself to even accept the death of her last ally in this failure of a coup. Her older brother, Hernan, lay in her cramped, tired, bloodied arms. His broken arm still clutched his sister's ruined sleeve of a uniform. His fingers were still gentle. They were so gentle.

The voice of Covenant, her NC, reminded her

"My lady, you are suffering. I must be allowed to administer emergency medical assistance to you. We cannot let you die as the others did. For the sake of-"

Her broken reply came tersely. Through lips dried from combat and fire, Mariano never meant to hurt her "sister" but at this time, she couldn't help it

"Torpe, don't. I don't care. My brother is dead. We're all dead."

"You still breath and your heart beats as fiercely as it did when you fought for Valencia and her people and your followers. Even as you took us to the embrace of the Mediterranean waters, your body did not break."

"But my mind has?" Covenant could say nothing. The expression of the AI, which was shown on the digital face of her long gone sister, Consolas, remained concerned. It was as if she never cared about the attempts of her master to dissuade her.

She was programmed too well to be offended.

But she couldn't help her master as she began to, yet again, collapse on her brother's battered corpse, weeping loudly that if it were not for her remaining inside the tank, she would have demoralized her people.

She had blamed herself. She had blamed thecorporation. She had blamed the people who still were loyal to the greedy. And most of all, she tried to blame God.

For a day, she had not left her tank. For a day, her people could not see her dusty face, her body that shook with anger and grief, her eyes that burned. For a day, Mariano was entombed in the machine, her heart with her NC and fallen brother.

She was all alone. Her family's hope and bloodline rests only with her now.

The last of the blood of Don Carlos and Queen Isabella.

---------------

Now in Australia, the lady of the Spaniards, the woman who held the names of the Carlists, the Alfonsists and the Spanish Catholics, the fury of Europe, the hope of Iberia, could stop her temper from taking her mind away but she could not stop her hands from shaking.

She wasn't weak but she wasn't patient either.

851562 Spaniards who fled with her and more importantly, the countless inhabitants of Haven, some of whom were Spaniards, Filipinos, Americans and so forth, were looking to her and the pilots of this airbase.

She almost failed to notice the rest of the squad and the master of the coffee house. Reminded gently by her NC, she raised her head, looked at all of them and said

"AH! My apologies. My name is Encarnación Mariano. I'm a Spaniard who led my people here after we failed to save our country from Paragon. Hopefully with this invasion by Red Star, my countrymen and I can regain our honor."

She then turned to the master of the coffeehouse, smiling as she shyly requested

"Ummm, if it's all right, I'd like to eat some scrambled eggs, pancakes, a little tocino and a cup of warm chocolate with honey."

After making her request, Joey accepted it as she requested and said "Very well, Miss Encarnación."

"Thank you." Then she turned to Chelsea and the rest of the squad "It is nice to meet you all again here. I hope my presence will aid you in the defense of Haven and my people."

When the briefing adjourned, Alexei was probably one of the first to leave. Still holding his helmet under his arm, he stopped near the door and waited for one of the pilots who raised issue against going to the bar. He was interested in socialising with a kinsman, if anything; sure Alexei's family had lost reason to speak their lost language over time since they first emigrated to the country-- Spare small phrases for fun and others mantras of honour. But they kept their accent, albeit faint, and Alexei could detect it in the voice of the pilot who commented on intoxication doing little beneficial for combat ability. At least, Alexei wanted to believe he detected an accent.

When he saw the pilot come along, he walked alongside him with a light smile.
"Parlez vous Francais?" He began, with an ironic fluent confidence. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken; I thought I heard a hint of a familiar accent in your voice. I am Alexei d'Vexille, of the Southshell Alliance." He introduced himself politely. He hoped he wasn't being too presumptuous, but on the other hand, this acquaintance wasn't be all or end all. Alexei's time fighting alongside the Havenites over the last few years have given him the impression of a ragtag band of all sorts, so there was bound to be someone he could joke with over at the coffeehouse, if not the maybe-kinsman.

When they arrived at the coffeehouse, the barista greeted them and pleasantly introduced himself as Joey Glory. One of the first of his customers out of Alexei's comrades was a young lady who introduced herself as Chelsea Steiner. Sure enough, Alexei definitely recognised her from the briefing as the girl who first expressed her vote for the coffeehouse, but he also recalled her from elsewhere. He ventured forward with his maybe-kinsman if he decided to follow, and approached Chelsea.

"Might I could ask you something, Ms. Steiner?" He began. "Ah, pardon my rudeness, my name is Alexei d'Vexille. I was wondering if you were a mechanic pilot during the Battle of the Blue Mountains, a little while ago?" He wondered. I just thought I recognised you, but then again, I fought alongside a lot of the Havenites from Sydney." He added, hoping his intuition was providing generously another opportunity to socialise with his comrades.

He turned to the barista when he was free for a moment. "May I please have a coffee as well, a medium mocha with honey please?" Alexei didn't know what to expect at this point. 'Honey', these days, was mostly artificially synthesized, unless you were one of the fortunate Independant city-states to have one of the new strains of surviving bees. Most conventional bees perished without an abundance of greenery, and even back before 2077, Alexei remembered learning that bees were at risk of going extinct because of humanity's carelessness. Alexei's hometown was lucky enough to have a resident beekeeping family; going strong since 2007, in fact. A whole five centuries and seven decades of tradition, older than Alexei's family of 'defenders of virtue'.

In any case, he didn't necessarily expect Joey to have the 'premium' stuff.

One of their other comrades was a lot more open than Alexei, apologizing openly and introducing herself to everyone as Encarnación Mariano. The accent highlighted her heritage, if not for her looks and uniform. Alexei only recognised her as a leader of the Spanish Battalion that fled Paragon-led Europe. However, he did not have anything to strike a conversation with her, so he just stayed around Ms Steiner for the moment.

This was defintiely not right. They were a group of combatants fighting what she described as a desperate battle against greater numbers, and it wasn't like they were the 300 Spartans against the Persians at the Hot Gates. Haven was a bolthole in Darwin, not an inaccessable area of the world, isolated from potential harm. It was Australia, and the only thing keeping them from heavily-destructive bombardment was an energy barrier. That didn't help much if Red-Star decided to commit a large-scale attack force capable of just steamrolling the area, and they would. So, explain to the black-haired turncoat - who knows how Red-Star operates - just what she was doing, being told to go to a social at one of three locations, one of which was a bar...which was a terrible thing to go to prior to battle?

There was evan a man, Caz he was called, who was looking forward to it. Frankly, Terra was glad that some of them seemed about as confused by this as she was. Even better, there was some actual disapproval of the bar. Good, though it didn't help that she still wasn't comfortable with any of it, even though one of the other women DID mention that the coffee house would have tea. That was...at least somewhat acceptable, which Terra nodded to.

"I can accept that, I guess."

Something that stuck out in all this, thought...amidsts all of this...was something Terra found herself paying some attention to. There was a woman there who seemed, this whole time, to be somewhat distressed. She seemed to be talking herself down from something, and while Terra didn't hear the words, the sound was a melange of colors, very unsettling tones - sort of like the nervous girl - followed by vibrant ones of a somewhat-forced sunny disposition, as though trying to reassure everyone that she was alright. But she wasn't, was she? She was very unlike Terra, who kept herself in check, who could force these things down. Terra didn't have any experience in dealing with other people's problems, but her feelings on controlling a situation... She wouldn't let this rest until she knew that the other NC Pilot was in the clear.

So, the popular vote appeared to be for the coffeehouse, and one of the pilots next to her actually suggested bringing the battleplans with them. Now that...was a good idea. Perhaps if she hadn't been so blindsidered by Commander Narra's strange ideas, she might've suggested it herself, but as it stood...at least somebody else had. This would move them on...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

...to the coffeehouse! Here, in an atmosphere that was attempting to be relaxing during wartime - the effort helped at least a little, to those who needed it - they would pull into the lane of chat on Conversation Street. Err, sorry. That was from remarks about those shows that people had mentioned to her again. Really didn't know anything about it, herself. Terra, remarkable casual in attire while not casual in temperment, entered after others had done so before her...and found them all being greeted by [s]Shizuo[/i] Joey. The mention of Red-Star fixed a stare at him for a moment, while others began to talk and mingle. Perhaps there was someone here who could appreciate her position here, after all. He seemed friendly and inviting, though part of that must be in his profession. IfRed-Star did him any favors at all, he must've done a good job, himself. Terra waited for others to order before stepping up now.

"I would like some pancakes, as well, with syrup but no butter on it. I'll have some breakfast sausage, as well. Also, some hot tea."

The reason Terra didn't go for coffee was more than just a preferance, to her. It was also that...coffee was really a strong emergency drink, which you would label as 'When you absolutely need to wake yourself up immediately', rather than a regular drink. In her case, it would be more of a gentle tug of caffiene, not a battering ram, more relaxing to the body. She could probably metabolize the stuff easy, but why put herself through that if she didn't have to? Speaking of things she didn't have to, she decided to talk to Joey now.

"I'm guessing it wasn't easy for you to get out of Red-Star either, then. Which part were you in?"

May as well satisfy her curiosity if the Commander was forcing her into this position. She looked around, seeing the pilot with the plans seated with a datapad. Perhaps she would speak to him next. No sign of Sahaquiel's pilot, the one that...Terra felt might benefit from her abilities. Maybe later... Joey was giving out other people's food while managing the pancakes. He seemed to have a fluid grace to his work. Yeah, definitely too skilled for Red-Star to just drop. Terra waited for an answer while her food and drink were handedly prepared.

The Coffee House - Darwin

---

Chelsea looked over to Alexei who introduced himself to her. She gave him a gentle smile and thought for a second. The name definitely rang a bell, in terms of his last name and the Southshell Alliance after all. ”Y-Yeah I was there. Thanks for protecting me while I was repairing a NC that needed battlefield repairs. The battle of the Blue Mountains was extremely hectic.” Chelsea responded to his question. She was a bit happy to see the Wolf of the Cove in person and get to know his name finally. The NC, which Alexei piloted was pretty amazing to her a bipedal/quadrupedal NC.

She got better seated at the table, which she was sitting at and sighed a bit. ”Y-Your NC is pretty amazing, Alexei. I liked how it shifted so easily back and forth from being a bipedal and quadrupedal NC so easily. You have excellent control of your NC.” Chelsea said happily since that was a pretty amazing sight to see. All the battles she was in, which this one that seems like the most dangerous one yet. Her body was slightly nervous mostly because she wanted victory against Red-Star and not the worst case scenario. She moved her headphones and music case, which was on her jacket to directly in front of her.

Her hands put it to the side of where her plate and coffee will setted in front of her. ”Hmm… what song do I want to listen to now? It has to be more upbeat than what I was listening to… Only if Priscilla was here she would be able to tell me.” Chelsea thought to herself. The thoughts made her look a bit depressed, however, she remembered she had a playlist on her music case. She snapped out of her thoughts blinked her eyes because her left eye was definitely giving her problems.

Her eyes looked across the room and noticed most people doing their own things or the one who was mostly confused, which was chatting to Joey. Chelsea switched to the playlist, which has all her favorite songs on. The songs in that playlist were definitely loud, which made her turn down the volume on her music player. She didn’t turn music player since listening to it while she’s chatting to someone is rude. ”I do hope that we will win this battle so the Red-Star can go back with their wounded pride or what not.” Chelsea said with a tone of hope and a bit of hate when she said Red-Star specifically. Not knowing the girl, which was chatting to Joey was a Red-Star Defector, even though the Commander said there was a defector from Red-Star helping the Havenities fight Red-Star.

@Andre Valias

Haven Shield Airbase - Darwin

Joey's response to Terra was, "I used to be a civilian functionary; a secretary, or at least that's what they called it. As they said, my being able to brew good coffee and sort files got me bonuses from the fat cats who used to collect tribute from Australia."

There was a bite of resentment in his voice. "And by sort files, I mean I was part of the committee auditing the wealth being siphoned from my own country, along with personally serving rich Chinese arseholes." He pursed his lips, "I may have gotten physical youth, but I lost my dignity."

He looked at Chelsea and Maggie and continued, "Not that I agree with everything the DUPH does; I'm no Purist, but I'm Remember Australia all the way." A reference to Haven's political parties. "General Commander Narra is neutral, but if you two can vote and Haven survives long enough to reach election day, vote for the R-As'. Same for you who get citizenship."

@Andre Valias@AzenExile@FalloutJack@Landaus Five-One@Metatrooper@Scribe of Thoth@Stern Algorithm@Sgt Vandingo@Arkitekt@AzenExile

---

---

Honestly, Cassius couldn’t help but grin at the reactions everyone had towards him, not a single one of them seemed… receptive to alcohol. Though that in itself didn’t bother him. He’d been around the block quite a few times, and a bad outlook towards alcohol before a battle was definitely not uncommon, and as such, that didn’t bother him. He did however, wink at Isaac after the little comment about not being able to perform at ones best while being intoxicated- hell, that’s when Cassius worked best. He didn’t say anything to go against it, though. Not everyone was a heavyweight like Cassius, afterall. Only normal for them to want to relax in a… vaguely normal place. Though he bowed his head in slight approval at Zahra, and smiled to her, before straightening up once more, and taking a long puff of his cigar.

”Aye, can’t say yer wrong with that. Guess I’ll join yaz, just be bringin’ in m’own poison." To emphasise, he pulled his vest back to reveal the other three canteens, each one different, some more elaborate than others, then closed it back up again, and continued smiling his toothy grin, before he moved on over and nudged Cody gently with his elbow. ”Gimme a look at that after yer done.” Adopting a slightly more serious face as he said it, before reverting back to his goofy smile, saluting Theodore, then gesturing back to the door with a quick nod of his head, waiting for the squad to lead, while he took the 'rearguard', focused completely on his own thoughts.

”Very surprising, Pilot Cassius. I thought you would have gone to the bar, with or without them.” Oh-Cee’s voice ringed out from the subtle earpiece, and he nodded along to her voice, despite her not being able to see him do so.

”I do aim to surprise.” He responded in barely a whisper. If anybody had looked back at him, there was a ghost of a smile apparent on his face, as his amber eyes stared ahead without actually paying attention to whatever they saw. The cigar burnt low, as he had forgotten to puff on it for a little. His mind drifted.

---

Coffeehouse looked just about as expected. Cassius had been with Haven for a good six months, and not once had he gone to the coffeehouse, nor the baths. The bar was the only place he was familiar with, probably having spent more time there than he had in his actual room. He looked from patron to patron, studying them intensely in the half second he focused on each of them, then finally settled on Joey. The tips of his mouth curled downwards very slightly at the mention of him formerly being apart of Red Star, but that quickly changed to a smile once more, and he let out a hearty laugh, before walking right past the majority of the group towards the table Chelsea had chosen, and the nearest unoccupied table, before effortlessly lifting the unoccupied one, and moving it over to Chelsea's, and joined the two together so that there’s space for the entire squad to sit. He gazed back over to Joey, and couldn’t help but shrug.

”It’s aight if I smoke ‘ere, right? An’ drink, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer, before plopping himself down onto a chair, and almost falling out of it in panic when he heard it creak underneath his size. He laughed again, before rubbing the back of his head with one of his hands, and taking a deep puff of his now re-lit cigar. ”Mah bad. Got’chuze a seat.”

He allowed himself a moment of quiet as he retreated into the inner parts of his mind, just simply enjoying the taste of the quality smoke he inhaled, before he exhaled through his nose. How long had it been since he had been anywhere other than the bar? Who even knows… not Cassius, that’s for sure. He figured he might as well enjoy it, and so he pulled out a canteen, a different one from before, and took a swig. He was sure that there was tap water that tasted better, but it didn’t have the same effect on him. He re-opened his eyes to look at the rest of the squad, then at Joey.

”Not hungry, luckily, else I’d eat out th’joint. Though might as well taik a coffee, half a cup though, th’rest’ll be my poison. I’ll take’t black.”

---

Isaac exited the operations room calmly, seemingly content with the decision to pick the coffeehouse over the bar. He supposed it was better than sitting in their cockpits painstakingly waiting for the order to mobilize. Despite his relative composure, he still visibly tensed up as another pilot slung some French at him right out of the door. His eyes flicked over to Alexei like a wary animal, not too wide as to suggest fear, but not too narrow as to suggest hostility. He hadn't heard about other Paragon agents here. Was this a defector? He'd never heard of a Southshell Alliance, at least in Europe. Had he been found out already? No, he had to play it cool, there was no way this guy could know who he was.

"Isaac LaBelle, nice to meet you," he finally responded, voice meek but otherwise level, "Are you from France? You speak the language well enough." He needed to assess what kind of insight Alexei had. Any insider knowledge of Paragon could be a threat to his cover, and he'd have to be extra careful. Isaac was pretty sure he didn't have a reputation, but he didn't want to take the risk.

He followed along with the group as they made their way to the coffeehouse regardless, shooting an idle glance at Alexei every so often as he kept in close proximity. When the other pilot turned to converse with one of the girls - he never caught her name - Isaac mumbled a quick "Coffee, extra cream." to Joey when he saw an opportunity. He slid into a chair nearby, head craning around the room in idle interest as he tried to look like he wasn't eavesdropping on Alexei and... Ms. Steiner, he called her?

The Battle of Blue Mountain. Sydney. That suggested Alexei had been here in Haven for a while, and thus he was unlikely to have any knowledge of Isaac himself or Algernon. The agent finally let out a sigh, his posture visibly sinking in his chair. He could relax; a bit, at least. The atmosphere helped, even with that huge man from earlier throwing tables around to make a bigger area for the squad to sit. It seemed odd to be sitting here with a whole armada actively bombarding the area, but what could Isaac do? He had his targets, and whether Darwin fell or not wasn't his concern. It didn't make sense for him to be more tense than some of these people with everything to lose. The only thing he had to worry about was unfounded paranoia and making a quick getaway should things go south.

Isaac finally perked up at that thought, scooting closer to the table in an attempt to at least look like he was engaging with the group, if not actively talking at the moment.

---

@Andre Valias