Port-1
Cafeteria
Hanson Seuclid, Sirius Free, Ayame Izumi
Hanson Seuclid, Sirius Free, Ayame Izumi
Hanson took a deep breath at the thought process of you teen in front of him, and the girl next to him, some spoke about her being something of an idol, not that he ever cared for music. He leaned back and folded out his hands, cracking them in doing so. "It looks like this really is the first war for you two. I've lived through two of them after all. I was conceived way back in uc63, before the first major war of the Earth and colonies we know of. When I was just a kid these same colonies dropped the remains of dead ones onto the Earth and damaged it worse than ever before, and even when it came to more civilized fighting it wracked the world completely by the end. I joined up with the same side as my father, the winning side, Earth. They called it peace, while small cells still fought on like the war never ended. Soon a special forces section was made, and I was scouted when they detected I had newtype potential. Sound familiar to you two?"
The technically old veteran looked between the two, one was another pod person brought out and taken advantage of by the colonies, the other's parents probably had the same situation to a point. "That 'peace' fell quite fast and the world was wrapped in another war, the Grypps War some of us called it. I can't remember the ending, I just know we fucked up the world twice over with little to show for it except a few genocides, and the remains of stability. I know I was sent away by the end, to where? Don't ask, I couldn't say. Can't even recall why I was in the pod, but now I'm here in the very situation. These soldiers don't even know a proper war unless they came from the fridge." Hanson looked around at the cafeteria, seeing a couple other notable pod survivors, dealing with their new times differently while still standing out amongst the other pilots. How many of them were even on his 'side' back then? How many would have been his sworn enemy? The changes of a few centuries were complicated.
"Now you talked about a dialogue, there wasn't any." Hanson looked straight into the young mans' eyes like he was telling him the meaning of life. "If you want to know how this all started, these people in their floating cans wanted to go back home, thinking they earned it having lived out here for so long, living off fumes for so long until that Hydrogen Fleet was started. I read their notes, they didn't do much until that collection was sent adrift, calculated to reach the giant for fuel. Back here, they started their own little militia, ready to step back on the ground like the people wanted them there. Only when they established a place just past the debris field and found out that looking down, people were fine. They didn't need the colonies to come down for them. A few rockets already came up and the brass figured, 'Why should we go down and settle? They are barbarians down there, brutes and maniacs left over from the people of old. We need to civilize them first.'
"So collect the guns, collect the ships, prepare for war. The first to fire? That wasn't them. They sent up a rocket that stayed up here longer than most, long enough a mobile suit team was sent out. Comms have never been great up here, but we were told not to bother. No negotiation, intimidation. I came up to that rocket and slashed at it till it tumbled back down. It worked for a while, some time to breath, thinking they might just have been lucky with the rocket. The next time they flew up? They responded in kind and the first time in a long time, mobile suits clashed in space. You're looking right at the one who kicked off the latest of Earth's global wars kid."