2023-08-13: Debriefing MESSY BREAKUP

• Cast: Sousuke Sagara, Teletha Testarossa
• Where: Commander's office, Merida Island
• Date: U.C. 0097 08 13
• Summary: Sousuke goes to Colonel Testarossa's office to report in after returning from assignment. Nothing good occurs to anybody.

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<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

Marking the days stopped mattering days ago. The Colonel was not in to receive Sagara back from his deployment. That's normally fine. Kalinin gave him some initial instructions, but indicated Tessa would want to see him herself when she was able.

So he followed orders. The same old routines. Prepare his weapons. Renegotiate some contracts that he'd had underway; cancel some others. Ended his magazine subscriptions; the base received copies of all the literature, anyway.

He was notified by Tessa's secretary that she would be present for him today. Was that this morning? Yes, it was just after waking.

He remembered, because it was when he would have made his morning check-in, before. He thought of the view across to Kaname's apartment.

The time comes, Sergeant Sousuke Sagara steps into Colonel Testarossa's office. He's long since used to the size of her executive space, so he's able to march straight to where he stood not very long ago holding a quite tender conversation with her. He turns on his heels and snaps to attention.

He looks at the map behind her, rather than at her.

"Sousuke Sagara, returning from the field, Ma'am!" he barks, like a recruit to a drill sergeant, with zero warmth and maximum performative formality.

<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.

She couldn't be everywhere at once. Merida Island, Jindai, here, there, elsewhere, dealing with both the complications of the minor bits of private life she could eke out versus the overextending arm of her job, always everpresent in her mind and elsewhere. There's nothing she can't manage; As much as she says that, what with each and every day seemingly marking some massive development somewhere in the world. What concerned Mithril was important, and unfortunately: That involved the entire world and beyond.

Fighting for the sake of peace was never said to be easy.

But, she had to make time. As soon as possible, as so much as to assure herself about the orders that she had to personally craft from above. It wasn't easy to send it out in the first place.

A large man walked out of the office, the tempered nod of a soldier given to SOusuke as he walked out. Inside, Tessa was already closing documentation and various bits and pieces of information. Sousuke, as outlined for literally everyone on the SRT and PRT, were on a Need-To-Know basis. He didn't have to know about what was specifically inside the ARX-7 or the machinations of its functions.

Only that it worked.

"At ease." There's a small edge to her voice on instinct; The lack of warmth was obvious on display, and she knew, she knew how Sousuke was shaping up. "...I've been notified that you carried out your orders properly. Good work." The prefunctory talk. He did what he was supposed to. What a soldier was supposed to do. Withdrawal from Jindai, the proper abdication of locale, the removal of oneself from the public sphere.

...She had done it once before. Once you know how, it's frighteningly easy to up and disappear without notice. And yet. Her own withdrawl letter hadn't been set. It hadn't been ordered, after all.

It takes a few moments for her to open her mouth. "...Have you said your farewells to Kaname?" There's a hint of doubt in the wording. Farewells.

To never see each other again, after the link they established.

<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

Not that it's helped him too much to have Lemming lay it out. An object the size of a refrigerator containing a cylinder of light? A frame of steel bones with crystal marrow? He felt like she was describing one of Shinji's Super Robots, or Kaname's martial arts wizards.

Sousuke snaps to an At Ease position, hands behind him. He'd given her such a searching, caring face, the last time he was in this room.

He stares holes in the map above her, his thoughts...inscrutable. Adrift. "Thank you, Ma'am!" he replies, full-throated, like he were speaking to Admiral Borda or someone else with no personal connection. He doesn't continue or explain himself.

In the end, he hadn't been able to conjure a reason for his departure. He'd prepared his equipment for the Intelligence team to come pick up for their safe houses, left a few things he still had of Kaname's, and...

The question makes his throat tighten.

"No, Ma'am," he says, his neck tight.

That night...they'd told him they loved him, and he had accepted those feelings, but even now he didn't know what that meant. He'd been slowly opening himself up to that, but...

Someone with a more open mind might perceive that Kaname, a part of the Shuffle Alliance, would come to this base eventually. That Kaname has a relationship with Tessa, too, that...this is a complicated thing and nobody except perhaps a very few people with no idea what's going on expect him to simply cut Kaname out of his life forever.

Unfortunately, Sousuke often has no idea what's going on even when things are going well.

His jaw sets. He forces the next words out. "Requesting an explanation, Ma'am," he says. His voice is less barking but still maximally formal.

<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.

She's well-aware of how a soldier looks at people. How they act, how it's obvious when someone is clearly there and willing and when they'd rather be on latrine duty during the height of the tropical summer. An instinct gained via just being around people.

How obvious it was, to know how displeased Sousuke was.

There's only a nod to his first response. He's not looking at her. Formality. The sensations of walls bricking themselves upward, bit by bit. An audible gulp in the room.

"...Unfortunately, I cannot have you contact Angel under any circumstances at the current moment." Rote. Clipped. A harsh shutdown to the obvious 'Final Chance' some people may have. A final chance that he couldn't have. "She...can't learn about your new orders." ...Even if she is Heart-2 right now, Mithril was Mithril. An organization in of themselves.

There's minor tendrils of thought. She's Heart-2. She has to visit this base. She herself is Diamond-2. She is in this base. Sousuke himself is a technical VIP: The only one who can do what he can. He can't be transferred off so easily, moved elsewhere without prior approval, confirmation, and if push comes to shove...Forceful authorization from above.

"...Mithril's West Pacific Command has reviewed the current situation involving Angel. Upon looking over the status of everyone involved in Jindai, GUTS, and the currently developing situations here and abroad, Mithril has decided that by relieving you of your guardian duties and shifting you to full-time combat and prep work to the ARX-7, we will be better prepared for the next instances of Lambda Driver-enabled suits and other similar suits. THe Intelligence Division is settling themselves into the greater Tokyo area and beyond." A decision of simple manpower; Sousuke piloted the ARX-7. The ARX-7 was one of the more potent close-quarters units on the field.

There was only one person who could pilot it. By any reasonable measure, this was the proper move...For anything utilitarian.

"It is no longer necessary for you to stay with Kaname." Her voice throughout is slightly forceful. Maintaining herself with the decorum as expected of a superior giving a soldier orders that they disagreed with.

<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

Sousuke doesn't understand this feeling that's burning in him now, only that it makes him feel like he has to do SOMETHING.

No. He does know it. It's like when Leina was taken, when Akane and Rikka were controlled. A deep, roiling anger in his throat.

He keeps it in anyway, staring at the wall so he can continue to not acknowledge her as a person.

Do not contact Angel under any circumstances. So, the Jindai line included her as well. Of course. Very well.

Simple logistics. He'd been transferred before. It was hardly anything worth thinking about. The small tragedies of friends lost and regained. Nothing to worry about.

Do not contact Angel under any circumstances.

It is no longer necessary to stay with Kaname. Something shoots up his back.

He does not realize the anger and disdain dripping out of his voice when he says: "And you, Ma'am?"

<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.

She knows. As much as Sousuke can try to hide himself under the stance of being a soldier, it's easy to know where to look...Or where one doesn't look. Gazing away. Straightforward. There's no warmth, no inflection of anything.

"I'm not ordered to, but heavily disincentivized to." She can't forget the face. They can't make her do anything uncouth. They can't. As much as some of them would love for her to transfer back to Operations, she had the option to stand up and walk at every step. She was here because she wanted to, and she was too valuable to force into alignment like they could with Sousuke.

Her jaw sets. She couldn't do anything for him. It, with all its perverse reasoning and understanding, made sense...For someone who viewed such a thing without the bonds that people shared.

"I'm not at liberty to talk about my personal life." ...If the wall is there for the other, there is no reason to break it down when the other is obstinate. "Your current focus must be for the Arbalest. Learn it. Focus on it. Know how it ticks inside and out, until you can pilot it without any external indicators."

A purse of the lips. "No one else can do it but you, so says the top brass and I."

<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

'I'm not at liberty to talk about my personal life' is what breaks him. His eyes widen, something runs through him like fire, and his gaze tracks down to her. He has no idea what face he's making, shock and pain and anger and more. He swallows what feels like a basketball before his gaze cuts away fiercely.

"Not 'our' personal life, then. Ma'am. Understood," he says, cutting immediately through the line Tessa perforated.

His jaw sets, twists, and twists again.

He again looks above her, slowly recentering himself. "Then there is no way for leeway in this decision, Ma'am?"

<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.

There's a chill coursing through the room, what may be an actual drop in temperature or the understanding that her words have hit in some way. It's a perverse sense of satisfaction; With her own gaze finally matching Sousuke's finally looking at him eye to eye for the first time in days.

You're finally looking at me, Sousuke.

That momentary sense of satisfaction is undercut. My personal life. Your personal life. Our personal life. Legs planted on the floor, trying desperately to keep herself centered.

...Our personal life. The entire thing was Mithril's operation; Neither he nor her bought the apartment, MIthril did. The observation was Mithril. Everything circled itself back to Mithril and their machinations, to try and keep this world at peace. "You know the lives we lead are drastically different on the official level, Sagara." The deliberate calmness. I'm an officer. You're a soldier. This is the work dynamic.

I can't do anything to change that.

"No. There is no leeway on this order. This is their order."

Accept it already.

<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

His face is stone. His soul is stone. But his heart...

He didn't realize he could hurt this much.

Of course; they'd discussed the differences in their positions and power many times. He knew it well. And yet.

He remains where he is, eyes on the map, teeth grit tight.

There is no longer any other dynamic between them. He's no longer certain he was anything but an officer's entertainment. He doesn't need to say it for it to come across in every element of his stance. "Yes, Ma'am," Sousuke says. "We are clear on that matter."

This is their order. This is their ORDER. This is THEIR order.

His arm tenses, fist balling behind his back. No. He won't let her distance herself from it.

"This is your order, as well, Ma'am?" he says, dripping with a disdain he didn't know he could feel for another human.

In this moment, whatever they had...means nothing to him at all.

<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.

The sharp acknowledgement of understanding, an internal wince filled with pain. She can't show anything to him. Not at all. This was an order. This was just an order she had to do.

"Good." A clipped voice. This is an order.

...My order? She could sense the disdain; The inflection. If he were a more improper man, she could practically see the faint spittle of spite tracing invisible arcs to the desk.

Was this my order? Me, the Colonel of the Pacific forces?

The commander of one of the most prestigious ships in the seven nautical seas barely recoils at the question. Yes. Of course. What other recourse could he have at this juncture? What else could he do to properly voice his disagreement, to say to a superior officer that he doesn't approve? A soldier, a soldier, a soldier!

"Yes." YES. "If it will get through to you that this is an order important enough to supercede Shuffle connections, then yes." Her tone is lower. Darker. The barbs of frustration, fury, stress. "If it makes you content that the only possible way for you to escape out of this without being completely made into something else entirely is to rip you apart from Jindai, I will do it. I cannot play favorites with any of my crew. No matter my own personal connections with anyone, this is how organizations like ours work. Are we clear? Do you understand this, Seargent Sagara? I have to tear you apart from our girlfriend for the sake of my crew. There's nothing I can do."

Understand it. Understand who I am in this situation. I am the messenger, the defendant, and the executioner.

"You don't have to say the answer. I know you don't. I already know you don't because you don't understand the web I'm in, that we're all in! Moving things takes times, it takes connections, it takes so much! Everywhere we go is monitored, everything we do is carefully considered to not step on the Federation's toes, Britannia's toes, the AEU, OAC, REA, and those are the ones that we officially deal with! I can't do anything or move anything by myself! Do you know how long it took to settle things after Khanka!? Are you aware of how much I had to do to placate the higher ups after Behemoth!? When you disappeared into Tsutsujidai, how much it took to stop them declaring you as KIA and to brush everything off to me, to try and make a second ARX-7!? Are you perfectly aware of that, Sagara Sousuke!?"

"I'm only seventeen! I should be taking a midterm and worrying about what swimsuit I should take, not horsetrading with people who practice realpolitik and would rather cosign you to a life of experimentation and reverse-engineering! What would you know of hierarchies, of politics, of the sheer amount of people interested in you, in me, in Kaname, for what we can do, for what I can do and have inflicted upon this sorry state of the world!?"

Those eyes. Tinged with the faint black of sleepless nights, of waking nightmares, of trying to eke out something for herself in a world that demanded nothing but the utilitarian numbers and units of soldiers and the weapons that served them so.

"But I can't do that! I can't just walk away, and I can't put my neck on the line for a single crewmember. I can't think about just you! You've fought the Venom, you've fought the Behemoth, you've fought kaiju, things that shouldn't be, and you think you can implicitly say to me you can't accept this!? You know how dangerous the world is! A regular M9 needs support, needs force! The next time there's something unexpected in the horizon, someone could die again! Melissa, Kurz, Seolla, Jezebel, Goldberry, Mardukas, Kalilin, any one of them can be wiped out as soon as one of them out there sets their sights on us, our PRT could be wiped out in an instant! It's my job to not just think of you, but to think of every last person in this crew and come up with ways so that we can all come home for another day!"

It's not his fault. It never was his fault. She could barely note as if looking from afar, as if this person wasn't herself. 'But this is who I am, aren't I? A fool, an idiot trying to make herself look big. Look at her. The tears down her front don't suit me at all. Her hand should hurt, how she slammed it down on the desk. How pathetic, me. But I can't stop myself.'

"Just think about the world around you for a second! Not just who you are, but your place in this organization! Why can't you just say it!? Why can't you just say you want to be with her and be honest with yourself!?"

Like I can talk.

"It'd make things so much easier if you could say something...Anything than this fakery you're putting up right now."

A hic rang through the room, the scrunch of paper balling up in her hand. Any movement to console was met with the instinctual swat of the hand, falling back onto her chair.

"...I loathe you right now, Seargent Sagara. We have nothing more to discuss. You are dismissed." Cut the thread right now. Leave her be. Solitude is preferable than being a wreck in front of him.

In front of...her boyfriend.

<Pose Tracker> Sousuke Sagara has posed.

In his anger, he forces the knife into her hand, and in her anger, she uses it. Maybe he really does just like women who kick his ass.

She doesn't just say it, she gets mad about it. The building barbs in her voice just harden his resolve, the angry declaration of exactly what it means to her and him to do this. The obvious certainty his came from over her head are meaningless to both of them, in this moment. Especially when it shifts to her own pain, the struggles of command. A commander yelling about their own difficulties is unseemly but it begins to wear him down. That they might have tried to drag her down to research to see if she could at all work on a replacement Arbalest. That she fears...so much worse than just losing people. His eyes finally click back down to hers and yes...for all that she's in ears, he looks devastated to have wrung it out of her. The price of his prize is yet more agony.

"I," stumbles otu of his mouth.

He doesn't approach. He knows that's not the kind of relationship they have - not now. Maybe never again. His place...what he wants...?

Dismissed.

What he wants is....perhaps it would be warranted to get the thrill of victory from the misery in his voice when he says, "Aye, Ma'am," and walks, measured but without conviction, for the door.