Zapdos
Xaltwind
Spiffy
dwyer austin
The Otter
Dezuel
Izurich
Danyel
Aku the Samurai
tundrafrog1124The United Republic of Arhas
Bedroom, Home, Beldren Subdivision, Suburban Town of Oumer, Near The Capital City of Eosia
He could feel the sudden pull out of deeper sleep as the alarm clock on the bedside table went off with the same repetitive, blaring alarm it always seemed to have. He felt the loss of heat when his wife got out of the bed, and could feel the small peck on the cheek she left for him. He could see that little smirk on her face without having to even open his eyes, really, playful as it ever was most of the time. He could even feel the heat of the early morning artificial sun creeping in through the window of his bedroom, even as he eventually rolled over on his back and his eyes opened up for the first time that morning. For only a short time he stared up at the popcorn-style white ceiling above his head, trying to shake the last of the groggy thoughts from his waking mind before finally giving in and running a hand over his face and wiping the matter out of his eyes.
From there, though, he knew it would be much easier. The same morning routine as ever, though it had become a certain amount of stability he’d come to appreciate as well.
Kepler rolled over some more before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, now sitting up and letting out one final yawn in his own bed before standing up to stretch his arms and legs. It was close enough to being the same type of pattern of getting up that he’d followed for over the last decade and a half, though he had to admit that finding and getting married to his wife had been perhaps the greatest possible improvement to the morning routine ten years ago. Indeed, already he could smell the tantalizing scents of cooking food on a stove, morning fare that his stomach would rumble in anticipation of as he was moving to the nearby bathroom attached to he and his wife’s bedroom to wash his face, shave, and get dressed.
...
...
...
White tiled floor, a blue-colored sky-like wallpaper with pictures of fluffy artistic clouds on it, and the sight of his wife draped in her long robe over the stop of her pajamas at the stove just on the other side of the kitchen bar. Her face seemed just as smiling and radiant as the day he’d met her, even though she was looking at the stove and tossing a large old earth style breakfast omelet in a pan she had once told him was called a ‘french omelet’. Whatever it was, he hadn’t tired of them in the last four months after she’d introduced them to him this year. Creamy, cheesy, fluffy, and with whatever else she decided to throw in with veggies and the occasional splash of pre-crumbled meat. It was enough to unconsciously put a small smile on his face as he walked up to the kitchen bar and sat on his usual stool sitting at the end of it.
“Well well, my dearest, it seems someone is ready for breakfast this morning at least~”
A low chuckle came out from between his lips, though it was enough to get his wife to look over at him. Deep green eyes and light brown hair tied in a hasty morning pre-shower bun certainly wasn’t what everyone might call the best thing ever, though it complemented his wife’s rather light tan skin, but for him he never got tired of it. Of this. Of any of this, whether it was a good day or a bad one. THough soon enough that gaze would turn back to the oven and cooking omelet in turn.
“Hey, it's one of the things I look forward to most mornings at least. Though when you’re busy, that Crepe-y Crepes place is my usual stop to get anything close. Sure it's just fast food, but whoever decided to add an Old Earth food place in this place was a genius. Beats the cheap Breakfast Hummus Wrap at Al Omar’s by a landslide.”
“Hmm. So you’re saying my food beats out Al Omar’s?”
“Absolutely. Place is already all over most anywhere you go here on Arhas anyways. Makes people sick if you eat too much at that!
…Not that I don’t enjoy the simple lamb and beef kebab sandwiches from there sometimes after work, if both of us are running late. Sometimes with a side of waffle fries with the Hallian yogurt sauce to dip.”
“The kids made a bet yesterday about that, actually, after they got home from school.”
“Oh?”
His wife would toss the omelet one last time, like a showman putting on a final display at the end of their act, before placing the food on a white porcelain plate and setting the plate in front of him with a small but telltale ‘clack’. Soon after a fork would be handed to him, before he immediately moved in to cut off a bite and shovel it into his mouth. Politely, of course, though somewhat still groggy in his manner of doing it regardless. It was, though, enough to get his wife to chuckle a little herself before she continued speaking again, leaning on the bar with crossed arms as she watched him eat.
“Sarah says you’ll change sauces one day there, try something else with your fries. Alan thinks you’ll never change what you dip your fries in. Both bet about ten arcas on it, a week of allowance, on the entire thing.
They both will probably try to get you to go there sometime the rest of this week and prove them right.”
“Mmm? Mmph mmm mmmmm mmmm.
*gulp*
Well that certainly makes things interesting then. Though they’d better not take their habit to gambling with other children as it is….knew a few too many when I was a kid who got into that sort of thing and lost it all over the years. Started as kids.”
His brows would furrow slightly, before his wife reached over with one finger and gently flicked his forehead.
“I can understand your worry, but I’ve been talking to the kids about it as well. They can keep it involved at home if they want, but nothing outside of the house. Especially not with adults either.”
“If they’re anything like you, though, they might just get so independent they start their own gambling ring behind the-, oww!”
The second flick on his forehead was a lot less gentle this time. He could feel the slight annoyance from here as his own smirk barely rose up on the edges of his mouth.
“Unfair! My father was working at a Casino when I was a kid, taught us some tricks the regulars he knew used, but I never did more than make silly bets with my siblings by the time I grew up. Though…my mother….”
He could see the wrinkles form on his wife’s forehead as her words trailed off, letting out a small sigh on his end before placing a quick kiss on her forehead to snap her out of it.
“Sorry. You’ve told me a few times, but I keep forgetting things these days.”
“I know. With everything that’s been going on since last week, and then last night the Gateway reopening of all things, I’m not surprised they had you stay at the office on a cot again.”
He lightly grimaced, then a bit more so a few seconds later, at the memories. Literally the afternoon the impossible happened, the Gateway of their ancestors reopened, and he’d been stuck in the office until rather late at night. No going home. Just tons of paperwork and mandatory emergency meetings over the comms as he’d tried to help organize things in the flurry of aftermath activity. Mandatory, all of them. Barely had gotten home to try sleeping in his own bed at that.
But that was the Department of Armed Affairs for you, and he’d learned that bit quickly after getting into the Central Government Bureaucracy and being pulled into that particular department due to his experience. He’d even worked with the Military Police at lower levels for years before that, even working as a Stratus as part of that. Now he was forty one, with two ten year old fraternal twins and a wife. Certainly a change in some aspects of his life, but in others he found that much had remained somewhat predictably the same….namely paperwork and meetings and having to go to different places all over sometimes.
“Eh, they fed us at least before I came home. Let us come home for a bit as well even. But while I can’t divulge details, I can at least confirm what they’re likely saying on the news late last night.”
“Oh~? So there is going to be a mission through the Gateway?”
“Several all at once, in fact. Tests at the Gateway site indicate there’s multiple exit points, meaning there’s a number of places that could be investigated. Where to approach first though? That’s what the problem has been more than anything, especially given we don’t know if anyone else out there is alive.
But…they finalized things at least, in record time to boot. So today it’s mostly a decision of who gets stuck on each of the three ambassadorial vessels to act as a representative as they get escorted elsewhere.”
His wife raised an eyebrow.
“Did they ask you or something?”
Kepler lightly sighed once more, before gulping down another bite of omelet.
“You can’t disclose it to anyone yet, but yes. It will be revealed to the major news stations this afternoon.
All the same, however, I’m going to be heading to work for part of today before leaving the local office. Packed that bag last night for a reason. I’m supposed to then report to the Arden Military Police Spaceport in Eosia as quickly as I can get there after work. No special escort, keeping it as hush as they can until it breaks on the news formally.”
His wife simply stared back at him for a moment, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation before she gave a small nod of assent on her end as he continued taking quick bites of his breakfast. Not too fast, even if he was hungry, but with time crunching on him as it was he had to hurry regardless.
“I can hear the kids complaining about it once you’re gone, but if you can you have to at least promise them souvenirs.”
“It depends, honestly, on a lot of things….a hell of a lot of things really. Not even a chance to say anything, but I’ll leave you some arcas to take them out to eat tonight at least. My treat, and I’ll bring them back something if I can to boot.
Sound good?”
A pause, before his wife would smile again and lightly kiss him on the lips.
“I wish I had more leeway on this, but I hope you know this means we’re eating out at Father Franca’s tonight without you.”
….Of course that was the catch.
Underground Facility Entrance, Arden Military Police Spaceport, Upper City, Capital City of Eosia
To navigate the capital city of Eosia was certainly something that many visitors might feel was impossible, and he couldn't’ blame them either. Kepler himself could only do it after having driven in to and back from the city a number of times for work, and after having worked there as a Stratus for some time to boot before he’d managed to land getting the suburban life with his wife in a town only some ways to the south. Still, one had to make their way around the sides of the city to move upward or downward in the city by road, or take the criss-crossing aerial lanes of flying hovercraft or moving hover-platform-craft services to make it across the city span more directly. On top of that, the myriad levels of buildings and towering skyscrapers that sat on the shelving and sides of the great ‘pit’ the city had seemed to be built into the sides and bottom of was certainly something grand in scale. On top of that it could give the uninitiated from the rural areas horrible vertigo by simply looking down on Eosia itself, mostly due to the sheer and utter scale of size of the great underground city in the first place.
Yet he knew where his location would be, and that was at the base of the westernmost two or three titanic tubes that seemed to come down to the underground from above to certain spots in the city in particular. Massive elevators that moved spacecraft to the aboveground part of the spaceports of the city and back down again. On top of that there was the massive large artificial sun array at the very top-center of the city, looking down right over the center of the titanic pit the city had been carved into and out of far and deep below the planet’s sands. It shone with a day-night cycle following that of the planet, keeping people invigorated with a proper sleep cycle among other things despite living so far underground. Miniature versions were even utilized in a number of larger-scale hydroponics operations, among other methods.
As he went along, however, the road would become oddly more isolated as he wound his way up and around to the military police facility he was headed to. Ultimately any side traffic and buildings would seem to disappear as he took a turn into a road going deeper into the side of the bedrock and stone, wrapping back around into the city again at a large and imposing military police guard station at what was the facility’s main gate. In that vein he would slow down and lower his driver’s side window, as signs on the closed barriers of the gate would indicate, until he came to a stop and a large mounted scanner ran its obvious light over his vehicle. Then an obviously-armed Stratus in what looked to be Grade 3 armor approached him with a shotgun held in hands (but which was pointed at the ground at least).
“Government Identification please.”
The main scanner at the gate would have already identified him, but there were always layers of protection and security in these places. Even so, his face held that blank and stoic look he had become known for during his service over the years. His ‘professional face’, or ‘poker face’ as some had called it, trained and drilled into him by his own volition as he’d come to face even the simpler life of a Stratus back in the day. And just as he remembered being back then, he could hear a tone of familiar ‘no nonsense’ in the man behind the helmet’s voice as well. Pulling up the retractable government-issued badge on his chest, Kepler would hold it out of the window where the Stratus could see as a small, hovering, robotic assistant came around the Stratus and scanned it. After a few moments, then, the Stratus would nod to him and give a stiff and formal salute.
“Government ID and genetic ID both confirmed. Welcome to Arden Spaceport, Major General Kepler Ardenson.”
Kepler would give a salute back as the barriers lowered and rose respectively in front of him, before raising his window once more and driving forward into the base. Not that he hadn’t been here before, though the occasion itself was much more notable than simply coming to observe facilities and so forth. Much more than leading military police into combat. Etc.
…Whatever awaited him, and the other two expeditionary vessels, beyond the Gateway was an utter unknown. It was something their ancestors could only imagine in their fictional stories and records after it had originally closed. But he hoped it was more pleasant than dealing with rebel cells at least.
For the Republic.
Vehicle Garage, Northside Ruins, Rural Town of Cibara
Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Let the nerves settle, and focus on one task at a time. No matter how many years she had been fighting for the Peoples Confederated Militia, or what her rank had become in that time, Alena Marie Callisto still reminded herself of the very basics and ran through them each day. Use a gun, operating her personal modified working frame, even running some stolen old driving sim machines to keep in shape for operating vehicles. By the same vote, she sought to drill it into every new recruit and lower officer under her command so they would also be just as prepared….occasional complaints or not. If they were to make any ground, they had to be prepared and ready to truly fight back against the fascist police state that claimed the planet to be under a ‘Republic’ then they had to be ready.
The short-haired redhead was in her casual clothes at her core, blue eyes running over the zippers and buttons of the outfit as she pushed and pulled and tugged the fabric of it to get it on her body. A stolen flight crew uniform over it that bore the Republic’s insignia, recent enough of a design that it would hopefully work for what they needed to do next. It was certainly tighter than her combat uniform, though, but they had little time to waste and less resources than they were hoping for.
"Comms test. All major callsigns check in and confirm your preparations, over.”
However, today was not a standard type of operation. No direct combat, but instead the sort of undercover work that she and her people had been doing here and there over the last few years. Even then, however, this particular mission was something else entirely that had come down in orders from the Councilor she served under later. Rushed orders to say the very least, but important ones that according to the message the whole of the Council of Six was passing down in turn to try to organize something out of recent events. Not much time but to take a short rest and prepare her best away team for this one.
“Callsign Firebird, reporting. Squad Three is ready and en route to the garage.”
“Callsign Iron Curtain, reporting. Squad Four is en route to the garage as well.”
“Callsign Hummingbird, reporting. Most of Squad Six is ready, but Mark got locked in the men’s shower room by two members of Squad Three again in just a towel. So we’re trying to get him prepared as quickly as we can after having to bust the locks again on the door….again.”
“Hummingbird, tell Mark to pull his face out of peoples’ asses for me, would you?”
“Only when those pictures of you mounting the hovervee drunk last month get old to me, Firebird.”
….Well, at least the soldiers were in good spirits despite the whole situation they were in. Not that the ‘usual antics’ didn’t at times drive her near to insanity. Or each other to insanity.
"Firebird, Hummingbird, cut the crap or I’ll make you cut it myself. Just get to the garage ASAP, because we’ve got ten till’ we need to leave. We can’t pass up the shrinking time window to rendezvous with our contact at Liewson Spaceport.”
It was rare the Council pulled any strings like this, due to how risky it was, but they had managed to get them a last-second contact at the Liewson Spaceport. From there they’d get their hands on a current military escort vessel of the transport type, one assigned to one of the three ambassadorial details the ‘Republic’ was sending out through the newly-opened Gateway. It was a large amount of luck they had that much of a chance, due to how rushed the situation was, but it was a small window they could try to take advantage of all the same. A chance to get out of the system and look for some kind of sympathetic ears out there, or even just a black market they could trade the stored on their acquired ship with, which could give the PCM the chance to build up or get something that could turn the tide of their cause. Anything that could make for a big break to gain ground for the first time in decades.
Though even she had to admit the rushed plan was a bit too risky, and the window for things was far too small. They’d already put it into her hands if she’d be breaking from the escort to another different location using the Gateway, if they could, as that would be their best chance at things perhaps. Then again, staying with the others would both help their cover and give them protection from potential foreign defensive aggression and so forth to boot. On one hand they risked being discovered as rebels by separating from their particular escort group, as simple as that, but could potentially use the reasonable enough justification of ‘hit the wrong button’ to try to save face. Maybe. Ugh.
What if the plan was discovered back home while they were gone? What if they missed their window, and local security got them before they could get to the Gateway? There were a lot of what-ifs that certainly could happen, and had at times in the past, but they were as prepared as they could be for what time and such they had to do so. Even had some of their own gear and frames sent ahead and loaded on that ship to boot already via said contact.
…Still, Alena would bark over the comms one more time, even as she noticed two squads already piling into the garage and standing in formation and at attention near her. Each had what little combat or standard attire they could manage to fit under their own respective disguises, though due to the rush it wasn’t too uniform in that regard.
“Team One’s leader will manage things in our absence, as discussed, working with Team Two to keep supplies in order and the base safe while we are gone. Councilor will keep in contact with them until we return as well. Already discussed what to do if Egelman tries to show up and take charge of our area as well…”
A fellow officer who was double her age but half her level of patience in the field and far more ambitious than she liked, but she would admit he did good work in sabotage operations and a more destructive sort. Egelman was also an asshole who tried to usurp her internal authority enough that they’d clashed a few times at meetings despite being supposed comrades and even having worked together on a few missions in the past after she’d first joined (and their areas had been better connected to each other). It was more like he wanted her position and to assimilate her area of operations into his, take on more power and authority in the process, though he’d been barred from officially doing that by their Councilor….it still likely wouldn’t stop a potential attempt to barge into her base of operations with his people if she was gone long enough on this mission though. Orders were one thing, being as independent as they were made it harder to enforce order at times. But…at least they each had a choice in that sense. Not like the faceless murderers they called the ‘Military Police’.
In that vein she’d punched his command codes into her ramshackle base’s defensive grid blacklist, rather than the whitelist it was supposed to be on as with any other officers, so if he showed up he was getting blown to cinders. Just as she’d promised him she’d have done to him if he tried. Team One and Team Two’s leaders were also her most loyal, and while the rest were she trusted them the best to handle a potential ‘allied incursion’ or ‘attempted coup’ from another officer. Her people also had orders to fire on the asshat if he tried to threaten them outside of their range of their self wrought defensive grid.
Court martial her for it or not, she would follow through with her threats against him either way. His female predecessor had been just as bad in a general sense anyway, if history and PCM records indicated anything about ‘bad behavior’ within the ranks of officers, though they had many veteran hands in that area of operations as well that they couldn’t afford to lose to bickering and infighting either.
As the last of the squads entered, including the formerly trapped ‘Mark’ whose stolen uniform/disguise seemed already half-wet, Alena would finish securing her main outfit and hold the piloting helmet under her right arm as she turned to face her soldiers. Three groups of five, each with one squad leader among their particular grouping of five. Her light blue eyes would carefully scan over each and every one of them from head to toe, ensuring things looked to be in proper order for sure, before finally addressing them once more.
“We could be gone for a day, we could be gone for a week, or we could be gone for months. Yet today we get the rare chance the PCM hasn’t had in its history…. the potential for outside help. The potential to gather supplies and equipment that will further the cause and ring of freedom around the cities of Arhas once more!
We stand on the precipice of something potentially grand, and our window of operation is tighter than we’ve seen it be at the best of times around here. In that vein, we need to remember that we are allies and are united in our case. Only together can we ensure the Peoples Confederated Militia will succeed, and that tyranny and fascistic rule can be broken and never again rear its ugly head ever again!”
She then used her left hand to salute the soldiers before her, who would all salute back at the same time in turn.
….For the PCM. For Arhas.