DefinitionA Morning, Before the Calamity,Lances of early morning sun cut through the window of the car, catching the dust from the old roof lining into bars of swirling particles. Remiel Morganstern, eight years old, pressed himself into the corner of the rear seat, clutching his bag to himself. In the rear view mirror his father's blue eyes glanced back.
"You sure you don't want to ask Sam if he'd like to come? There's still time. He might enjoy it." Remiel just continued to hunch at the edge of the window, his eye staring at the passing houses, and the flickering sun rising behind them.
"No," the boy said firmly. He had told his friends he was going to visit his grandparents today, not exactly a lie, not the truth, either. He couldn't tell them what he was really doing now. Remi tightened his grip on his bag. Besides, he really didn't want anyone else there. This wasn't for them. This was Remi's and Remi's alone.
Remiel's father's eyes shifted, catching those of his wife, dark brown, like her son's. They shared a glance, but said nothing. Remiel sank further down into his seat. The car continued to accelerate down the street, tracing the winding country road as the world woke up all around them.
First Encounter in ProgressRemi continued to watch the battle unfold, his dark brown eyes, almost black, seeming as if they were drinking in the light. His brow furrowed. He hated this. Battle. Combat. It was just so...messy. No matter how well orchestrated, it always seemed to degenerate into a bloody blur.
When Olivia had given them her engagement orders, Remi had been pleased. She had made the right call, or, at least, the same call Remi might have made. Against Raptors, standard operating parameters dictated a staggered battle formation, to screen casting and mitigate numerical and alacrital advantage. When she had placed him in the flanking position he had been even more pleased, the better for him to choose his moment of engagement, to plan the proper moment to strike. And then, he remembered what real battle was like. The plan collapsed almost immediately upon contact with the enemy, the line broke cohesion as Aaron pushed ahead and everyone began to engage at their own digression. Remi prepared to strike, all of his combat training spinning through his head. But everything happened just so damned fast.
When Jyn moved to assist him, Remi knew he should be grateful. Instead he was just annoyed. She acted so decisively, every one of them did, as though they were in control. As though they knew what they were doing. But where was he? Remiel just watched the ebb and flow of the battle, a spectator. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like. What had all of his fine tuned training been for? He was supposed to protect them, to ensure that the chaos of the world never hurt his friends again and yet, he couldn't even take the initiative to act now, when real danger had finally found them.
Remiel's self-flagellating and indulgent reverie was finally broken as the first drops of Roy's rainstorm splattered against his face. Remi blinked. He looked back across the battlefield...and finally saw his opportunity. Engagement data on xenomorph 004, colloquially known as "Raptors" suggested that upon an engagement turning against them, the xenomorphs would attempt to take as many of their opposition with them as possible, using their injured as a screen for one final desperate charge. They were hardly the only xenomorph sub-species to display such behavior, the concept of withdrawl or retreat seemed alien to them. Just one of many reasons the monsters were so dangerous. This particular pack did not deviate from the norm. Breaking their unit cohesion the remaining raptors divided into smaller groups. One of those groups would try to retaliate against Kat, Remi was certain. Whatever their bestial appearance, the xenomorphs had shown remarkable intelligence, they should recognize her as the biggest threat. Fortunately, she was being well protected by the redoubtable defense of Thael and Roy. But Remi knew the incredible motivating force of desperation, even the best defensive line could not stop a charge willing to die for one last desperate strike. Remi's grip tightened on his blade, the moment to strike had finally come.
As three of the beasts, designated Delta, Zeta, and Kappa, broke off from the main group Remi moved to intercept. The three morphs formed an asymmetrical charging formation, Zeta and Kappa moving to the fore, willing to sacrifice what remained of their vitality to give their compatriot on last chance to strike. Remi raced to match their pace, interposing himself between them and their charge lane.
Delta was first, the beast's limbs beating the earth as it accelerated. Perhaps it had injured it's eye, because it seemed wholely unprepared for Remi's counter. Ducking low, Remi gripped his blade in two hands, close to the shoulder, sticking the blade in the monster's path as it leapt, letting the monster's own momentum be it's downfall. The beast attempted to jump over Remi, the tip of him blade catching on it's underbelly, slicing deep and long, ichor and entrails spilling on the ground behind him.
As Remi rose to prepare for Kappa, it was already almost upon him. He grimaced, combat was just too damn fast. It reached him before he could rise. Letting his right leg drop, he spun on his other heel, Kappa's tusks cleaving the air where he had just been. Twisting around, Remi threw all of his force into a stab at the creature as it careened by him, his blade punching into it's flank just behind the faceplate. Stuck to the hilt, Remi could not work the blade out as the creatures forward momentum carried it away from him, tearing the blade from his grip and partially turning him around. Remi cursed under his breath, he'd lost his weapon and lost track of the final Raptor.
Spinning back around, Remi didn't even get a chance to see it before Zeta ripped him off his feet. Remi and the Raptor tumbled end over end, the beast clutching at him with it's limbs, tusks and tail stabbing and lashing at his arms and neck. Remi struggled to protect himself, his mind spinning for a suitable counter. When trapped in grappling charge from a Raptor, one of the standard maneuvers taught at the academy was to arrest the tumble and use the centripetal force to one's advantage. Of course, that relied upon having some form of action to turn that leverage to advantage. Kicking out his legs as they rebounded off the ground, Remi stopped their tumble, midspin, twisting to stay on top as they came tumbling back down, timing his strike with the Raptor hitting the ground, drawing back his hand Remi reached deep into himself, imploring any of his spirits to help him, to empower him in some way. Throwing all of his weight into the blow, he thrust his palm down into the thing's chest. His fingers digging into it's flesh. Remi must have hit an artery because a spray of blood fountained from the wound, droplets splattered his face, a few drops falling to his mouth and right eye and...something else.
The wounded Raptor let loose an all too human sounding shriek, splitting the air, a moment later Remi released his own inhuman roar. As the two sounds reverberated through the air, for a moment it became impossible to determine which sound had come from which of them. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. The Raptor collapsed back on the ground motionless and Remi tried to stagger to his feet. He struggled to tear his hand away from the monster, as if he had forgotten that they were not attached. Shakily backing away from the beast, Remi looked around himself, his face a mask of confusion, he shuttered and stumbled. Something felt wrong with his legs, like they were bent the wrong way. The battle was going badly, too many of his kith were injured or fallen. He shivered, when had it become so cold. Remi's wavering gaze fell upon Kat. That female was the biggest threat, they needed to...Remi blinked. He gritted his teeth. Turning away from his comrades, he bent to retrieve his blade from the body of Kappa, trying to hide his distressed state in the act.
Remi hated battle...it was just so messy.
Remi manages to get off his butt and do something. He deals lethal damage to Delta and severe damage to Kappa . He also deals lethal(?) damage to Zeta. Then he freaks the F out.
Shortly ThereafterRemi checked his kit for the seventh time following the engagement, his eyes kept darting to his teammates. No one had said anything to him yet. Perhaps none of them had noticed his outburst. His hand faltered as he retightened the strap to his combat webbing. The tremors had yet to stop. He felt nauseous. He hoped no one noticed him staring either.
Still his gaze kept lingering on Kat. For a moment during that fight, just a moment, he had wanted to kill her. He had wanted to kill her more surely than he wanted anything else in the world, all his being told him he needed to rip out her throat with his teeth. More than the nausea, more than the terrifying confusion as to what had happened to him was that knowledge. He had spent so long trying preparing himself to protect them all, to be their aegis against the world. But not only had he acquitted himself poorly in that first engagement as a group, he worried he had come dangerously close to trying to harm one of his friends himself.
He need to figure out what had happened. He needed clarity and control. But most of all, he needed to make sure none of them knew how badly he had faltered.
On a Boat, AdriftRemi stared out of the the galley window, more withdrawn than usual, were that possible. His face was grim, his eyes were grim, his disposition was grim, an aura of grimness oozed from his very body. Far off as he was though, he caught the words Olivia had listlessly spoken. Remiel turned and looked at her through the galley door, frowning as though he didn't understand what she had said. Food. Right. Sustenance. Sustenance was important. A soldier needed to keep their strength at peak. The human body was a complicated chemical system, only by supplying it with the precise nutritional requirements could it be kept at maximum efficiency. Remi might have lost faith in how else he might help his team, but he could at least keep them fed.
Turning to the cabinets he opened the first two, moving around the cabin to take stock of their supplies. Truth be told, his friends probably didn't trust him with meal preparation anymore. Not since he had been made quartermaster for their first unit field excursion back at the academy, the infamous 'Shit Brick' incident, but as Remi bared all of the supply cabinets he realized there wasn't much they could complain to him about the meal.
Leaning out of the door he shouted, "well, we've got beans...and we've got beans. We are probably going to have mostly beans."
