2024-01-29: Our 'Plans', Their Future
- Cutscene: Our 'Plans', Their Future
- Cast: Eight Orlodhari, ???
- Where: Ra Mari II, Eight's Quarters
- Date: May 0098 IC (January 29, 2024 OOC)
- Summary: A late-night video call brings up a question that's been asked before. The future rapidly approaches...
Eight Orlodhari is looking down at a tablet in her hand, reviewing the data on what happened in Isaac City. It's one of many reports she's been given on world events, despite the fact that officially, she's still on maternity leave. In point of fact, her children are sleeping at this hour, as is her husband--she's awake reviewing reports and talking to someone on the other side of a screen.
"I see," Eight says. "So she's gone this far... But is it really going to mark a change?" Her red eyes focus again as she pushes a little blonde hair out of her face.
Eight has been working on these reports, this information, for months. While she's theoretically been too busy to work, she's found the time, staying informed during downtime, even while feeding her children sometimes. And of course, she's on numerous mailing lists--like that of the Silent Calling, to keep tabs. A report on them is on another tablet on the desk.
"We don't know," the person on the other end says. "The best we can do for now is to stay informed."
"Right. And the fleet?"
"We're gathering up old ZAFT and Zeon ships both to accommodate the mobile suits we've acquired. And enough people are wary of what's going on that we've got crews for them, too. We're gathering them far from Magallanica, of course."
"Right. We don't need NUNE thinking that we're building up a force to use the colony builder for an army."
"Though... we /are/ building a new force, Eight. This is bigger than the Three Ships Alliance, now." The person on the screen adjusts his glasses, which glint in the artificial light.
"...I know." Eight sighs, setting aside the tablet, and looks into the screen. "But do you trust it? Can we really afford to step aside completely? Sure, it looks good on paper, forgiving colonist debt. But they're forming new forces, too."
"RIght. And we've lost a number of people, going back to their old homes. Many of the Alliance's members have chosen to join new organizations, signing on with the SAL and others, instead of staying with a 'finished' rebellion. ...Which is why we can't afford to lose any more bright stars than we already have."
"I know," Eight says. "You're going to pitch me on it again, aren't you?"
"We need you back, Eight. You're the best option; linked to all our components but beholden to the fewest. And you're a good leader. You proved that."
"My kids need me too. My family."
"Yes, they do. They need you to make sure there's a just world they can grow up in."
"...That's a low blow," Eight says. "But you're not wrong."
"No, we're not. So you'll at least consider it?"
"I will," Eight says. "But it's not time to play our hand yet in any case; I do have a little more time."
"You do... We do. For now. But the Alliance isn't the future. Not on its own. The future is uncertain, and we need to make it more certain."
"Right," Eight says. "Our 'Terminal'... It's going to be time, and soon. But give me a little more, all the same."
A cry starts up, then two; Zaress and Aarmi are waking up. Eight can 'feel' them, as well as hear it. Hunger cries, she thinks...
"Look," Eight says, "I've got to go for now. But I promise, I'll give it thought."
"All right. Take care of them. But soon enough... Admiral."
"Orlodhari out." Eight switches off the screen, and looks at her reflection a little while longer. "...Can we really keep 'peace' this time...?"
They'll find out.