2024-11-29: Another Year Alone
- Log: 2024-11-29: Another Year Alone
- Cast: Murrue Ramius
- Where: Captain's Quarters aboard the Archangel, docked at Magallanica
- Date: U.C. 00Expression error: Unrecognized word "uc". 99 11
- Summary: Murrue celebrates a birthday alone.
It was early evening for Magallanica. Among the warships of the MDF Docks, the Archangel sat, towering over the Izumo-Classes that made up most of the fleet, but nestled alongside the Ra Mari II, one of the few ships able to conceal the legged ship’s mighty form from most prying eyes. The ship was empty for the most part. The crew had finally been permitted shore leave to explore Magallanica, awaiting the arrangements for replenishment and refueling. After that, most likely to assist Terminal in hitting some target, whatever was needed to help maintain Orb’s independence.
One member who had not departed the ship was her Captain. Murrue sat in her office, the external viewport’s display screen lowered and connected to the station’s external camera broadcast, to the channel pointing at the pale blue orb that served as humanity’s cradle and grave. The lights were tinted low. From her seat, jacket tossed aside, boots nearby, a glass of vodka with ice clinking in her hands thanks to the simulated gravity, Murrue sat, pondering.
She hated this time of year. The first year was the roughest. She was rarely if ever in the mood to celebrate her own, even last month. All it did now is remind her of what she missed out on and what she was going to miss out on for the rest of her life. She gazed up at the shelf of keepsakes, not that she took too many from Akatsuki Manor before they departed to interrupt Cagalli’s wedding. Her old EFSF peaked cap. A few pictures that hurt to look at for too long... but then there was that locked cabinet. Big enough to only keep a helmet.
A purple one. With white wings painted on it.
Murrue slumped over to one side, resting her head in her free hand before looking over at a nearby empty chair. He’s sitting there, a drink of his own in his hand. Collar of his uniform undone, sleeves rolled up, looking at her with that devil-may-care smile. A wink, a raise of the glass, and then...gone again.
There were a lot of things she wanted. Last words that weren’t cut off by an explosion. A last image that wasn’t a cockpit disintegrating. Getting to be held by him one last time. Warm a bed together, ever.
Murrue sighed, curling her stocking covered legs up onto the chair, finishing the rest of her glass.
“Happy birthday...Mu.”