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*'''Log: The Difference One Person Can Make''' *'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Ana Kambinda]], [[Character :: Teletha Testarossa]], [[Character :: Qivi]] *'''Where:''' Abidjan, West African Community *'''Date:''' June 09, 2022 *'''Summary''': ''Approached by Tessa and Qivi, Ana makes a decision to leave the Federation behind.'' ---- <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana hasn't gone far from where Qivi last met her. She stayed in Abidjan, the Ivory Coast's port of preeminence and major metropolitan area. Getting a message to her was simply a matter of asking Qivi for her number. She'd received it - and waited for night to fall. Port-Bouet, one of Abidjan's communes and one of the two most coastal. Still a centre of industry, much of the waterfront has been built up as Africa has become more prosperous. Much of the waterfront traffic flows down the Boulevard de Petit Bassam. Here, it passes by a swath of sand bumping up against the risen seas of the Bight of Benin, where several Gambia mahogany trees line the scenic patio of a quiet beachside bar. No one's there tonight but four people: A bored-seeming bartender, a young couple on a date, and one tired Angolan soldier. Ana found herself a spot as close as possible to the water, near enough that the wind rustles delicately through the mahogany tree that lends its shade to the colourful umbrella still set up even at this hour. On leave for the moment, she let her hair ease out of its straightened state and back to its natural kink and spring, parting it to one side. A cold beer collects perspiration in front of her, a splash of relief from the humid West African night. She sips, looking out over the water, before checking her wristwatch for the seventh or eighth time. All she knows is that Qivi told her that this was the place. What to expect? She's not sure. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> Tessa was a busy gal. Managing the ship, directing combat operations and planning days, weeks, months in advance for various events. Classified and uinclassified...But it was on the wayside tonight. No, this meeting was for recon, for recruitment. Granted, a submarine commander was not the best one for recruitment, but strange times and strange circumstances...Not that she was normal to begin with. It wasn't a normal thing to deal with WHispered, and...that was certainly part of the motive for coming here. With a calm, restratined (and nervous) gait, she went on over to the Bight of Benin. The way to people was through their stomach, after all; That was the entire reason she suggested a bar rather than some mall plaza where others would be kept out. With a simple chat with the waitstaff, she walked on over with a nonalcoholic cocktail, topped off with a fancy umbrella. Acting completely the part of a tourist in this African locale, sitting down and facing Ana without pause. "Ana?" Who else would it be? But pleasentries were pleasentries, and breaking the ice of who Tessa actually was was sure to get the words flowing. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> It may help that there's someone with Tessa. Well, it may help Ana, because it makes it a lot easier to find Tessa - this person is familiar. Qivi is also with Tessa. It's hot, so she has denim shorts along with her tank top, which is currently a sports-related one (Freedom City Eagles; it is unclear what sport that is). Her headband is still tied across her forehead and the tops of her ears, despite the heat, her hair falling in an enormous mass down her back. "That's her," she confirms to Tessa, before she calls out. Not that it's hard to tell, given there's already a file on Ana. As for now: Qivi pulls up a seat to one side of Tessa. "Hey," she says, a lot more casually than Tessa's greeting/confirmation request. "Glad you got in in time." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana's location isn't really classified - she's on a routine leave period right now, a measure aimed on paper to keep her from wearing out at the front but really enforced in this case to keep her out of the way while the OAC figures out if she's too politically spicy to field. She's not advertised it, though Qivi found her without difficulty last time. The Bight is an impressive body of water, a vast bay of the Atlantic Ocean spread out along the southern coast of Africa's western lobe. A few nations within the West African Community back up onto it. Cote d'Ivoire is one of many, but one of the more prosperous these days. For Ana, at least, it's a good place - a reminder of what she likes about her continent of origin. She is still not sure what to expect. A stranger strolling up and taking a seat seems about right, though. Dark eyes follow the woman as she approaches. She cants her head, eyebrows coming up. "That's me," she says, keeping her tone quiet and her body language casual. The other figure's more recognizable. Ana offers up a smile and shifts in her chair, raising her bottle to the arriving Qivi. "I am too. Thanks for getting in touch. Nice shorts." Ana dressed pretty similarly. Tank top tied off under her chest, shorts, a pair of boots coming partway up her calves, a few bangles and bracelets. Dog tags, but easily missed. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> THe humid summer (of tropical suffering) did wear on Tessa the slightest bit; enough to defer to the weather's whims and to grace herself in a bikini top and some breathable shorts. Her own thoughts on the matter, really. She's still keeping the braid. That much is non-negotiable, what with her work and all. A nod, the soft sigh of relief slipping through as her own body posture relaxed. "I'm glad nothing of note came up. Getting a time parsed out is much harder than it looks." So says Heart-2. "Can I offer you a drink or a refill? Mithril will cover the costs of my dime, so it's the least I could do." Money. Leverage. A reason for Ana to stay, should everything go south. Free food was free food. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> "It's too hot for jeans," is Qivi's comment on that. So she just wore shorter jeans. Makes sense. Qivi doesn't actually mind the tropics. She lived in them for years, after all. But wearing long pants was a bridge too far. (So are braids. Her hair is too voluminous to be anything but an enormously thick braid and she can't be bothered.) "Is that an open offer?" Qivi asks, not entirely serious; she expects to cover her own drink, which will just be something cold and non-alcoholic, this time. Probably shouldn't drink on the job, and this is at least mostly the job. "Anyway, I suppose I should introduce you two. Tessa, this is Ana. Ana's cool people, but I told you that already. Ana, this is Tessa - I work with her sometimes." Which means a little more than 'I ended up as a merc on the same side as her once' - Qivi doesn't introduce those people this way, so it says a lot. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> If one really wanted to look, one could see the strings of a bikini top peeking out from under the straps of Ana's tank top. But peeking too much might be awfully gauche. "Tell me about it," she echoes with a lopsided smile and a shrug before setting the mostly-empty bottle down. The refill is offered, with a name attached to it. "Far be it from me to turn down Mithril." Ana doesn't know &#42;every&#42; private military contractor in existence, but she's read enough reports to recognize that name, on the surface. "Thanks." Qivi makes the introductions, and Ana nods, sliding her drink off to one side for refills when the time is right. She gives Tessa a considering look over before nodding briskly. "Qivi mentioned she knew some good people. Good to meet you, Tessa. I'm sure she's been talking to you about stuff." 'Stuff' is the delicate way to characterize her last conversation with the Wanzer gladiator. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> "Open offer, within reason. I do have to justify it to the higherups, so don't order for everyone in the house." The reasonable boundary set with a sip of her own cocktail, doing her best to remain restrained in front of the temptations of relaxation. This was a work meeting. For work. At a bar. ...She was getting paid for this, technically. "Yes, I've heard the major brushes. The court martial included." Another cocktail sip, taking a deep breath in. A deep breath out. Work time. "And thank you for the introduction, Qivi. I'm sure this wouldn't be possible without you." A genuine smile offered in return, flipping between the masks of comraderie and commander. To be both at once was no easy task. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> Qivi just orders a Coke with ice, which definitely won't break the bank and, critically, reminds her that she is probably not supposed to be drinking right now. "No problem," Qivi says to Tessa - and then looks a little sheepish when she continues on. "That stuff's public knowledge," she defends herself to Ana. "I wasn't giving away secrets or anything... you just need to know where to look. But yeah, I told her the basics, and we kind of looked into the rest." She's pretty sure that some people in Mithril found out more than she did. She's not exactly the world's best investigator. "But it's the kind of thing people need to know about. Even if they had it coming," she adds, with a bit more sourness in her voice. Well, she agrees with Ana at least, apparently. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana presses her lips together at the mention of the court martial. She glances out over the water a moment, resting her elbow on the table and cupping her cheek in one hand. The frustration is obvious, no matter how much she tries to contain it. "I joined up because of my dad," she says in a more distant tone. "He was in the One Year War, came back wounded and died a broken man. I was just a kid. I wanted to think I could make a difference. Do something to help other kids not have to lose loved ones. Maybe help someone else's parents or kids come home." She grimaces, shaking her head and straightening her posture as she looks back to Tessa. "So you can imagine how pissed I was when I tried to do the right thing back in Ouagadougou and ran into a Britannia-shaped brick wall of politics." Qivi's apology is met with Ana flashing her a lopsided smile. "Yeah, don't worry about it. It was a headline thing anyway. Not that ''they'' reported what actually happened." She laughs, short and cynical. "Suffice it to say I'm getting pretty tired of being buried and fucking helpless because everyone's too scared of pissing off Britannia to actually do some good in this world. It sucks." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> A (non-alcoholic) cocktail was enough for herself. So said common sense and the ethics she had...And the fact she was underage, at that. Nevertheless, that thought quickly fell by the wayside. "Even without an investigation, it was simple to dig it up...Don't worry, I've read the entire case. I agree with your position completely." The needs of the many warranted that response. So she concluded after reading the testimonies. But... "...So that's why she wanted this meeting, Qivi?" The airing of greviances. The distrust of Britannia. It was already obvious from the onset what this was about, but the horse's mouth was the best place for information. Always. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> Qivi takes a long drink to cover for a few moments. She nearly inhales an ice cube and ends up coughing for a couple moments. Then she sets her drink down. "Well," Qivi says, "yeah, kinda. We had a talk, and I think she'd be interested, Tessa. More than that, she'd be good at it, and useful. The military keeps putting her by the wayside to keep her out of the way, and she wants to fix the shit - excuse me. The stuff in the Federation, and the people who profit from it. Like she just said." "I told her that there were people out there who thought a bit like she did. And here we are. She knows I fought in Japan for a while," Qivi adds. "And that I 'help out' with a bunch of other stuff. She's seen Sarangay around." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> It turns out Ana can hold her liquor. She ends up with another beer, popping the top off it with a liquid hiss before downing a quick drink. She would've expected Tessa to read for something like this. Not fully realizing the other woman is underage, Ana shifts forward again and folds her arms on the tabletop. "I'm glad someone does. Thanks." Qivi explains things pretty succinctly. Ana nods, crinkling her nose. "That's pretty much it. They keep shuffling me out of the way so as not to piss off you-know-who. It's just how broken it is. Everyone's too afraid to do anything about the people causing all the problems. Even ZAFT - Africa's getting hit right now over the nuke attack, and there's no one &#42;from&#42; the OAC even on the Federation Council. Good people keep paying the price." She curls her hands around her fresh bottle, shoulders tensing a little before settling. "...It's like Qivi said. She told me there are people out there who actually want to fix shit. I do too." Her eyes dip a moment before she forces them up and adds, "Staying where I am is doing nothing for anyone." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> Cocktail polished off, a cola to wash it down. She had to give points for the bar's selection; enough to entice even teenagers to spend a bit there to swallow down some fruity beverage. Nods of understanding as she listened on. THe discontent was obvious enough; If Ana's own sussinct phrasing about the problems weren't obvious enough, Qivi's own talk about the subject was enough to confirm the want of defection. "...I see. And how do you think to get out from the OAC? I don't think they'll let someone out from testing their suits so easily. Not without a tracker on their back and eavesdropping on everyone around them." Nothing Mithril would do...Without proper suspicion, anyways. ...The other tidbit in her brain died out without much cause. No, there wasn't any angle of a Whispered here. Merely a woman with something burning inside her. ...Similar, that. "What do you plan to do, then? How much do you know?" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> "It's more than just the Federation," Qivi says, her voice raising for about two words before she realizes she's doing it and throttles herself back. She repeats, more quietly, "It's more than just the Federation. There are other people who want things the way they are." Amalgam, Bionet - but that's more than Qivi is prepared to go into in a bar, in front of who knows who - and over Tessa, who knows more than she does anyway. This part she can't help with so much - Qivi never joined the Federation military for a number of reasons, so she didn't have to worry about leaving it. Somehow, being a wanzer arena battler/mercenary is a lot more free. So she keeps her mouth shut. Well, almost. She puts more cola in it. Seems to work. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana scratches the back of one hand and looks out over the water. "I honestly think they'd be glad to be rid of me. I'm an embarrassment for them." She crinkles her nose before looking back to Tessa. "...As far as they're concerned, I'm on leave right now. If I tried to go back and fly the A3 out, they'd spot it for sure. That's tracked. The rest of my stuff isn't. I figure the best thing I can do is just fall off the grid and go missing. At that point...." Shrugging, she picks up her bottle again and pauses for a drink. A huff follows. "...At that point, I guess it's figuring it out. Figuring out where I'm needed. If I have to go root around in some rubble pile in the middle of midwestern Britannia for half a Zaku I to fly, that's what I'd do." When Qivi speaks up, Ana frowns and looks down into her bottle, her voice quieting slightly. "...It hasn't just been politics in the Federation, no," she concedes. "Over the past few months, there've been attacks by people claiming they were sent by Dr. Hell. And some of the stuff the Federation's sent to fight has made me wonder. I've seen other pilots who are just kids who've clearly been broken down and experimented on." Ana keenly remembers a fight where Seolla took the field with her. The girl seemed barely sixteen, yet with something seriously wrong with her. She shakes her head, eyes darkening. "...I don't like that human-experimentation stuff." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> Tessa, as socially deficient as she was in casual conversation, is wise enough to know when to be quiet and to allow someone to vent. Nothing about this was new to her. Dr. Hell. NERV. The children aboard. The thought that Tessa herself was, technically, a child didn't cross her own mind in the slightest. This was where she belonged; On the battlefield. For others. "If that's what you want..." ...Well, it's not like she wasn't here for this exact reason. Shuffle was Shuffle: Always searching. Always looking. People like Ana. People like Qivi. People like Tessa. Those who wanted to do something more, but also had the strength of self. "I don't think anyone does." Anyone with morals. Unfortunately...The rest of that thought died down in her own head. "And what are you willing to do for it, Ana? If you do go missing, how much will they try to hunt you down?" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> This part is Ana's to answer. Qivi keeps quiet rather than butt in. She's already had this discussion, and she knows where &#42;she&#42; falls on the matter. She does smile at Ana once, though. Encouraging, almost, though that definitely wasn't what she was brought here for in the first place! </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana crinkles her nose. "I have no idea if they'd come after me. Part of me thinks they'd be glad to see me off. I'm a problem for them so long as I'm around. If they shrug and turn their backs, fine. If not, oh well." She shrugs stiffly. "But it's not something that'd stop me. If they want to come after me, they can bloody well try. I'd rather be an outlaw for the right reasons than go by the book and keep propping up a broken system." The smile Qivi sends her way helps. She knits her fingers tightly together, catching the woman's expression before looking out over the water again. Off in the distance, the cry of gulls carries through the dark. She's quiet a moment, ordering the rest of her thoughts. Unconsciously, she brushes her thumbs together. Something's churning behind her eyes. "...This is probably heavy," she says in a more serious tone, still looking out over the water. "I remember being fifteen or so and being outraged at what was happening in the south of Japan. I wanted to fight to stop injustice from happening. I'll never forget my stepfather saying that it'd be pointless because one person can't make a difference. I wanted so bad to prove him wrong." Ana's knuckles whiten a little before relaxing. "I don't... hate the OAC. But no matter how I look at it, I'm not making any difference here. There's so much wrong and it's so baked in, and it's like... like a giant chain around my neck any time I try to do the right thing. That's why even if I had a million hounds of hell chasing me for it, I want to go somewhere else. Somewhere I ''can'' make a difference and protect innocent people." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed. <poem> A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Familiar phrases. Familiar words. The weight of responsibility, of who you are. The chains that bind with power. The want to free oneself of that. ...She's doubting if that drink was non-alcoholic, with how her mind is wandering tonight. And yet, she listens to every last word Ana says. Weighing it on her mind, taking in the significance of this decision. Another step of reaching out to the world. "...I can understand that." A weighted statement after a moment. "I'm not so sure I can offer such things offhandedly, but I can start the necessary recommendations to ensure something can be done. Consider this a promise, rather than a contract." Another deep breath in. Another deep breath out. Sometimes, she wished she could 100% sign off on her intuition, rather than listen to the demons that always doubted her. "There's going to be a small recruitment drive within the next few weeks for Mithril. Search for them around bulletin boards. Training camps, excursions, nothing unusual in this part of the city. Mention that Tessa Testarossa recommended you for the Diamonds." "...If you do well enough, you'll have your wish, Ana. I can't guarantee anything, and I don't want to." Her gaze locked onto Ana's face. Even for someone so young, those eyes belied a fire. "But I think if you're the person we think you are, you'll get it." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Qivi has posed. <poem> Qivi lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "It goes faster than you'd think," Qivi assures Ana. "And the results are better too." She grins, then. "Trust me, you'll be fine." Even though she'd been recruited in a different way - MITHRIL hadn't picked her up directly, after all. She raises one hand - and then reconsiders thumping Tessa comradely across the shoulders. She puts her hand back in her lap instead of doing that. "Tessa here'll take care of you." Pause. "Metaphorically speaking." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ana Kambinda has posed. <poem> Ana's was alcoholic. She tanked it like a champion drinker. Hands still woven together, she looks out over the Bight a moment longer. The humid air brushes across her face, barely felt. Finally, though, she breathes a slow breath and turns dark eyes back to Tessa and Qivi. "I'll do that," she assures, her voice quiet. Taking a chance was always part of this. Guarantees would have been nice, but they also come at an incredible premium and show up once in a blue moon to begin with. All she can do is take a step. "Thanks for extending the offer. If I really am the person you think I am, we'll be talking again when it's all over." At Qivi's assurances, Ana flashes her a lopsided grin. "I'll take your word for it." She seems, if nothing else, game. </poem> [[Category:Logs]] [[Category:Chapter 2]] [[Category:Chapter 2, Act 4]]