2024-03-20: Killswitch

• Log: Kill Switch
• Cast: Lucine Azul, Liam 7-020, Leina Ashta
• Where: Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
• Date: March 20, 2024
• Summary: Using an outdated prototype that just so happened to be available from Nergal, Lucine tries to use psycommu technology for the first time, with Liam and some Nergal staff on standby. It goes poorly, then very well, then extremely poorly. Thankfully, the 'Black Lioness' just so happens to be nearby.

---

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        "... So... ah."

        It could be the romantic setting for a date: sailing over the blue waters of the Pacific on a brilliant sunny day, no destination, no goal, just the two of them, sorting out their thoughts with each other.

        Except they're not really 'sailing' as much as 'hanging over the ocean on a platform for combat purposes, with an old experimental unit that feels about as comfortable to fly for Lucine as flying a brick'.

        It's larger and bulkier compared to the Dianthus, and it's probably been the first time the unit's seen the light of day since it was shelved. It might be the last, as Lucine looks over the layout. < "At least I'm not going to hit some switch accidentally... there's no other weaponry equipped aside from the... ah, 'psychommu' weaponry." > Still, it was rather nice of Nergal to be so supportive, and even more lucky that there even was such a unit on file.

        < "..... I'm looking for anything in the manual for what I need to do, and... I think this is just an older copy that comes with the standard Aestivalis suits, just with no references to cybernetic-- ah, they missed one word, but it's crossed out... At least it's autobalanced." > Pause. < "The recording system is going, at least... so, even if nothing happens, they'll some data out of it." > It wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts, but she doubts they'd even find any use. Why do what others so do much better, especially now?

        A few seagulls have landed on the furthest edges, wattling around as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

        < "... We can experiment, I guess... Ah, Liam, are you ready? I think I gave you the killswitch just in case." >

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        A second machine sits on the very edge of the tiny artificial island. It, too, is a Nergal loaner, along with the platform itself--the former is a bog-standard Alto Flight Type in standard corporate colors. The latter is what it sounds like: a field where a rookie pilot can learn basic maneuvers without endangering anybody else.

        Liam sits in the Alto's cockpit, a cup of coffee in one hand. Within easy reach of that hand sits a translucent box, bolted onto the control panels. Behind the transparent panel is a big red button marked 'CUTOFF'.

        <"I have it,"> Liam says, <"And... could we not call it a killswitch, maybe?"> He laughs lamely at his own request. Liam takes a long pull of his coffee, slides the lid shut, and sets it in its cupholder. He plucks his helmet off the dash, dons it, and clicks the seals; a hiss of air fills his ears as the environmental system pressurizes.

        <"The monitoring techs tell me they're good to go, too. Whatever happens, Lu, I love you. I know this wasn't an easy choice for you to make.">

        <"Ready,"> Liam says. A twist of mingled hope and anxiety fills his gut the moment he says it.

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

A microwave oven hums in a breakroom aboard a battleship that's currently over the Pacific Ocean, readying itself for ascent back into orbit to dock on the Ring.

There, two male pilots pilots, of the Dominicus Corps wait for their glazed donuts to finish reheating, as there's no sense letting them go to waste.

"You ever think of those kids we let out of hellholes like the one we just left?"

"Try not to." The other man comments to him, before he replies, "It's just that, you know. With how fucked up they are when we find them, just makes you wonder - how many end up in prison right off, or join up with some terrorist outfit in Zaftra or some shit."

"Not our job to sort them out after."

"Yeah but like - shit, if today's victims become tomorrow's criminals. Shouldn't we?"

"... What you expect us to be like - psychology experts or some shit? How much mandatory training would that take? How do you 'sort out' kids who are fifteen kinds of fucked up?"

"Just you know - maybe we like, build a place for them. Where they can't get out... and can't hurt anyone."

Which is when a young woman's voice cuts in, icy, "We have places like that Greg. It's called 'prison'." Says Leina, still in her pilot suit herself, standing at the door frame, before she walks over to the coffee pot. "For the love of- how is that in any way justice? It's 'victim blaming'."

The man at least has the decency to look embarrassed, "Look- I didn't mean like - I meant an Institution."

"Keep digging that hole."

"No wait like - an Institute where we study them - figure out how best to rehabilitate them, and you know - do research on the specific ways they're fucked up."

"Great idea - fund it." Leina says as she pours coffee into a disposable cup, and just, sips it black as she turns to leave the room, "We'll call it the Institute for Continuing Study."

Greg seems torn between annoyance and shame, as the other man, Andris, opens the microwave oven door. Pulls out donuts on wax paper and says-

"So - how about you step out of that minefield and eat your donut, Greg."

"Oh shut up." He still snatches one anyway.

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        < "Ah, sorry." > Lucine giggles, a touch anxious, but a little excited. < "... A shut off switch, then." >

        There is no cupholder in the... whatever unit. Or maybe, Lucine hasn't looked hard enough. Didn't they sometimes have them in a compartment you had to push open? Her bottle of water had to be wedged someplace, but that is a small price to pay.

        < "... It's not like I'll be using stuff like this on the Dianthus anytime soon. It's just... testing." > Lucine grins. < "But I love you too, Liam." > It's just... in case.

        The training 'dummy' looks even more hopelessly dated; it was so much easier to train with VR systems nowadays than physical ones when it came to cutting costs, after all. However, such systems weren't exactly build with Psycommu tech in mind. .... Or 'Psychcommu' tech. No wonder this never took off.

        < "... Ah, I see now. There's a switch on here. Ahah.... I guess that's why.... it..." > Lucine's words trail off into a soft mumble. For a few seconds of silence (which may seem longer on Liam's end), nothing seems to happen.

        In the cockpit, Lucine's mouth continues moving, as the field of her mind expands, and expands. For someone who is used to this tech, it might seem primitive, like using a tricycle when before you've used a souped up motorcycle.

        ..... it's not a far comparison, either, when the 'tricycle' is just as capable of destroying as the 'motorcycle'.

        < ".... Ocean...." > Pause. She doesn't sound like she's in pain, just... extremely distracted. < ".... getting used to it. How." >

        The first sign of anything happening is... lackluster. The fist of the unit, attached by a cord, flops down off one arm like a failed jack in the box.

        She laughs. < "How." > She clears her throat. < "How... do the others... do this?" >

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        "<Right. Just testing. Is everything okay with you guys?>"

        There's a moment's delay before the bare-bones Nergal technical team--safely ensconced in a quadrotor transport, about a kilometer away--reply.

        "<Uhh, yeah. We're not seeing anything weird in the test unit's systems."> The woman's tone speaks volumes: she is anxious. She does not want to be here, but the alternative is not getting paid. A second voice chimes in from the background of her transmission:

        "God, that thing's giving me Zeong vibes. How long did they have it in mothballs? I'm amazed it can still fly."

        "<EYES-1, this is Red Button,>" Liam says. "<What was that?>"

        "<Uhh Pablo said it looks vintage. Might be taking cues from an old Zeon design?>"

        "<Mmn,>" Liam says. His mouth flattens into a thin little line. It doesn't sit well with him, but that's as far as it goes. He's not familiar with the Zeong or its dread progeny--he was not on the ground when the Psycho Gundam Mk. II touched down in the ashes of his home.

        '...Ocean...'

        "<Lu, are you okay in there?>" Liam asks. "<Remember, deep breaths. Focus on my voice.>"

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        < ".... Yes." > Pause. < "It's not... unpleasant." > Deep breaths, right. At least her voice still doesn't sound pained.'

        The fist retracts; this comes easier to Lucine. Fixing something that is out of order. Cleaning up. < "... Ah. So that's how it is..." >

        The seagulls have begun to resettle down, having been hovering since the 'explosion' of the fist. Their faces look on, almost as if they disapprove. This is simply a quirk of how their beaks are curved; they only care about a place to sit during their long treks. And seagulls will do what they always do on docks and rocks.

        The hand is deployed again, and moves past the training dummy. Startled seagulls fly off; the hand has already stopped. There was nothing angry behind it; the hand clumsily swipes over the space; white flakes disperse into the waters below.

        The hand retracts. The seagulls return. Lucine begins to giggle again.

        The hand goes out, a touch too fast this time, nearly nicking one of the seagulls that are a little slower to take to flight. < "-Ah! Sorry--" > Lucine retracts the hand; the action is quickly becoming more natural to her. < ".... I should... focus on combat." > It distressed her to see how quickly she could 'lose' control. Even something as innocent as cleaning a platform could potentially turn ugly.

        Focus on Liam's voice. The unit turns to face the dummy, and Lucine breathes.

        The hand shoots out, but it's like a rocket-powered system, rather than anything intelligent. Metal dents under the punch, but the effect is just as awkward as the first time she deployed that hand.

        To inflict damage on something... it can't be as simple as commanding a hand to hit. She has to... think on it. Harm it. To hate it. But how can she hate an inanimate object?

        She has to imagine it as being a danger.
        
        Glancing up, Lucine reflects on the Alto Liam is in. It's similar to the one Lucine flew before, after that day.

        < ".... Ah." > She focuses on that memory, on the helplessness she felt, watching the Dianthus being taken away as she laid there, on the pavement. The innocent clerk's life being snuffed out moments before, though no fault of his own, all because she thought she could be clever. They took it away from her. They took everything away from her. Taking, taking, taking. What did she do to them? Nothing, nothing. They take and steal and eat and consume, all of them, the people in those suits, the jovian lizards, the people who saw Newtypes as something to harvest, and Martians as fodder to distract the drones.

        They take and take and take and she wanted to--

        Seagulls take flight as the fist shoots out with a sudden burst of violent fire.

        *PING*

        Sunlight glints off a piece of metal that ricochets off, crashing against the platform in the closest thing to a flight it's had in ages: the head of the training dummy.

        Its arm will come next. Then the next. Smash it to bits. Lucine's unit is using both hands now.

         She's laughing.

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        "<...What's it feel like?>" Liam asks, trying to lead Lucine back to something resembling a balance point. This is a new experience for her, and while she might not be able to explain it perfectly, it might help anchor her.

        The test continues. Liam bites his lip as he watches Lucine's first, fumbling attempts to engage the Psycommu in earnest. The Alto's talon-like feet grip the deck of the platform beneath it. It's big, and well-secured, but he swears he can feel the reverberation as the hand SLAMS into the test dummy. The head flies off.

        "<...Lu?>" Liam says. The faint glow of pride is gone, now, replaced with violent, gut-churning dread. "<Lu, are you all right? Do you want me to shut it down?>"

        "<Could you maybe ask her not to laugh,>" says the tiny, petrified voice of the Nergal tech who spoke before.

        "<Lucine, respond,>" Liam says. The Flight Type's wings snap out behind it, and its jets ignite. Liam grips the control yoke with one hand, and flips the lid off the shutdown button with the other. "<Lucine, what's my name, over? Who am I?>"

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

"What's the next item on the list?"

Leina's sitting back in the cockpit of her Beguir-Neuer, cup of coffee in hand. There is no holder, but they're stationary right now. Maintenance always is. She downs more of it, as the Mechanic reads out over the comms.

"Rear jumps."

She's about to do that, when... she hears something, no more correctly she feels something. It's in the distance, it's...

"Close." She sounds a million miles away, and the mechanic answers with. "Hm? Rear jumps? You gonna do it?"

Coming out of that, she says quickly, "Clear away, I'm powering up." The man looks like he didn't hear her before he starts running, "What the shit!? This is maintenance Ashta!"

She's on the comms immediately, "Captain, there's something going down. I need to launch, now. Cancel the ascent, change heading East and open the hangar doors, ready the catapult."

"... Pilot, slow down, explain yourself." Came the Captain's voice but she replied, more frantic, "There's no time for that!" She called out into the comms, "I need to launch now."

"Just yourself? You know we don't allow that."

"It's an emergency! Send backup after-! But I'm ready to go now and I need to go now."

There's a long silence, and then eventually, give.

"I'll expect an explanation later. Cancel our current heading, and point the prow East... Open the hangars. Prime the catapults."

"Thank you!"

The Beguir shifted, it's clawed feet retracted as it swerves into a pivot, moving right atop the catapult, waiting for it to move into position.

"Muster everyone else, get them ready to launch after her."

"Black Lioness in the Beguir-Neuer - launching!"

The catapult did its work, as she suddenly feels the wind resistance battering against the Beguir, it's jets firing to carry it farther...

... farther east, towards that laughter.

Lucine might even feel it. Something, someone is coming. The white hot bolt across the senses of a Newtype flash. A creature of two limbs, awakening and hurtling towards her, unfurling into eight more appendages as it goes.
It's eyes open, and it stares... stares right at her.

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        < "... Not terrible, but... not great, either. I... feel slow." > A nervous laugh; this one, unlike the ones that come later, is at her own folly, clumsily doing the bare basics like she's never flown before. < "... My hands keep hitting the console." >

        Old habits die hard.

        And, much later, old instincts prove to be even harder to kill.

        Much like Lucine has done, many times before, she reacts just before an action happens. Liam may not be coming at her, but it's movement, off in the corner of her field of vision. A potential danger.

        The unit turns, both fists at the ready, aimed straight towards him.

        If Liam presses the shut down mechanism, the button... doesn't respond. He'd know it, and the techs would confirm it. The fists crunch into the Alto--
        -- like two clumsy,
                awkward,
                        rocket-powered fists. < "... Liam--" >

        Did she stop because of Liam's voice? Or because of the white hot flash of insight, of something coming towards her? Many hands.

        _I need to protect Liam._

        Panic makes the Martian step over reason, but the misplaced need to make up for those attacks make those steps a _run_. The unit bursts into flight off the platform, wired fists shooting forward, spraying a blinding spray of fire towards the Beguir-Neuer's direction.

        If Lucine had taken a second longer, she would have realized how familiar the sight of so many hands were.

KTS: Lucine Azul targets Leina Ashta with Long Range Fin Funnel Array Alternating Fire!
KTS: Lucine Azul has completed their actions for the round.
KTS: EN Regen activates. Your new EN value is 33.
KTS: SP Regen activates. Your new SP value is 75.
KTS: Leina Ashta has activated the Spirit Spirit Command.
KTS: Leina Ashta engages evade against Lucine Azul's Long Range Fin Funnel Array Alternating Fire!
KTS: Leina Ashta poorly reacts to Lucine Azul's Long Range Fin Funnel Array Alternating Fire, taking 5000 damage!

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

The comms switches to a wideband frequency, "<This is Black Lioness, of the Dominicus Corps. Power down your weapons and standby for->" The pilot stops, because now it's her getting that flash across her senses.

The same moment the pilot sees fists crunch into that Alto. "Damnit!"

The pilot suddenly changes trajectory with the jump jets, but it's too late. Fire sprays in it's direction, beams suddenly melting away sections of its armor and pock marking its limbs.

Why does this hostility feel so familiar?

"Fine." The pilot says to noone but herself, frustrated, as the funnels launch from the rear armor, spiraling out in a pinwheel pattern, as if it was carving out spirals on a shell. They move in strange arcs and directions.

Then they begin to fire.

One after another, beams slice from this direction and another, trying to cut the mobile suit to smaller pieces.

"What is it with that antique?" She murmurs, wondering, but her concern is less the weirdness of this, and that laughter within.

She had to get them out, before more people get hurt.

"<Who are you even with?>" She asked, as if trying to pierce the veil of that laughter, "Command - I'm sending you visuals and GPS data. Can someone get me registration data on this island?"

"Reading you - and - ... Okay yeah, by the chorus of 'what the fucks' behind me I'd say we're all just as confused as you are about this, Lioness."

"Fantastic."

KTS: Leina Ashta has activated the Dash Spirit Command and has gained proficiency bonus.
KTS: Leina Ashta targets Lucine Azul with Beguir Neuer Funnel Array Spiral Formation!
KTS: Leina Ashta has completed their actions for the round.

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        Liam moves before he fully processes what's happening. He sees the testbed turning, raising its fists; his left hand tightens on the yoke, while the right one balls into a fist and slams the red button. It takes precious effort not to use every bit of his strength.

        Nothing happens.

        The Alto finishes doing what Liam instructed it to, as once again, his augmented nervous system has outpaced controls tuned for a normal pilot. It raises its shield, and the fists bounce off, with a fraction of the force they'd need to penetrate.

        "<What the hell?>" breathes the Nergal tech, a moment later. "<Power's killed. Why isn't it--?!>"

        "Oh God no," the other tech (Pablo?) chimes in, a moment later. "Laura, SOS flare. Now!"

        "<God my manager's gonna kill me,>" growls the original Nergal tech (Laura).

        What Laura does not say: 'If the berserk Newtype doesn't kill her, first.

        A bright red streak launches from the side of the transport, racing into the air and detonating in a flare of crimson light. As the Dominicus team draws closer, its IFF lights up: a civilian monitoring craft, with Nergal's stamps and codes all over it.

        The same is true for the Alto Flight Type, which roars into the sky after the testbed. "<LU, STOP!>" Liam screams, over broadband. 'Black Lioness' answers him a moment later, and his heart skips a beat. The Alto freezes in place, its stationkeeping jets roaring, its shield raised. Memory crashes against Liam's consciousness: the sound of a life ending as electricity rips through High Voltage. Its pilot's last words.

        Liam sucks in a breath. In for the four-count. Hold for the four-count. "<Lucine. I'm safe. Stand down. Listen to my voice. It's Liam. I'm safe. Nobody's going to hurt you. Disengage the Psycommu.>"

        A tightbeam patches through to Black Lioness a moment later. In comes data: everything Liam could scrape out of Nergal about their precious antique prototype, which isn't a lot, but... Leina knows where the cockpit is. What parts she can safely disable. Liam's voice comes through a moment later, as calm and composed as he could reasonably be in this situation. "<Leina, Lu's in there. This was just supposed to be a test, Nergal said this thing was safe!>"

KTS: Liam 7-020 targets Leina Ashta with Insight L1!
KTS: Liam 7-020 has completed their actions for the round.
KTS: Liam 7-020's Tactical Intelligence activates Alert!
KTS: Leina Ashta accepts Liam 7-020's Insight L1!
KTS: Liam 7-020 shares insight with Leina Ashta, making her next attacks more accurate!
KTS: Best Defense! Leina Ashta successfully reacts to Liam 7-020's Insight L1, taking 0 damage!

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        The mystery pilot in the Beguir-Neuer feels familiar. The part of Lucine's senses dedicated to that singular talent are being funneled (no pun intended) into this terrifying(-ly gratifying) task.

        _Protect Liam(because you've just hurt him)_.

        The swirling pinwheel of firepower is far more complicated than the experimental unit is capable of; the comparison between the two units is laughable, but so was the idea of Lucine using an antique test to do anything beyond punch a dummy.

        Lucine twists the unit around, but it's so slow, she has to move *faster*, _escape_

        Anger has drained away to panic as the unit shakes; a hand tumbles free, complete with the loose fist, plunking into the ocean below.

        Liam's screaming at her. Of course he'd be screaming at her, how she hurt him.

        'No one's going to hurt you.'

        < ".... was afraid this would happen." > Lucine's voice is a pleading murmur. < ".... Screwed everything up. Can't stop now. _They'll take us both_!" >

        The remaining fist raises and fires. Lucine is no longer laughing, at least.
        
        < "I WON'T LET THEM!" > This may not be any better.

KTS: Lucine Azul targets Leina Ashta with Fin-Funnel Range Control!
KTS: Lucine Azul has completed their actions for the round.
KTS: EN Regen activates. Your new EN value is 52.
KTS: SP Regen activates. Your new SP value is 100.
KTS: Leina Ashta has activated the Spirit Spirit Command.
KTS: Leina Ashta's Ace of Dominicus activates!
KTS: Leina Ashta engages parry against Lucine Azul's Fin-Funnel Range Control!
KTS: Leina Ashta moderately reacts to Lucine Azul's Fin-Funnel Range Control, taking 1959 damage!

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

"<Liam? Wait - WHAT?>"

There's a incredulity to it, that simmers into anger, even as the Communications Officer helpfully returns on the comms, "Hey registration just came back. Whole platform belongs to-"

"Nergal."

"Huh? Oh - ah yeah. Through a dummy corporation."

Her mind whirls round and round on what's the easiest way to get her out. She could use the Psycho-jammer, shut this down immediately, but she's worried about what happens when you use it on her in this state.

"<...I'll take care of it. Just keep out of the line of fire... and I promise I'll get her out of there.>"

It's a promise that Lucine immediately makes difficult, closing in, as that fist suddenly raises, and Leina's response is to suddenly cut the power to the jets fractionally, ducking low.

As the fist comes in close for that point blank shot, her shield suddenly rockets out from it's position on the arm, revealing the Wire.

It's not an INCOM, technically speaking, it's the only Non-Kinetic Effector left within the suit after most were stripped out. The shield strikes the palm of the hand and shoves it up, its digits spraying fire that clips a shoulder.

"<Lucine. It's Leina - listen to me. Listen to my voice.>"

Eight limbs? No. That's a lie. There's ten, a taloned foot suddenly kicks up towards Lucine's Mobile Suit. It's talons expand, then suddenly try to clamp down on the mobile suit's head.

And with a yank, attempts to rip off it's main camera, denying her visual information.

"<I don't have much time to explain this - you're being overwhelmed by your own hostility and it's drawing you within.>"

Yet, it's not the first claw she's ever faced, is it? A claw that once upon a time, shredded Liam's CGUE apart piece by piece.

"<You have to pull back, now.>"
KTS: Leina Ashta targets Lucine Azul with Beguir Neuer Foot Unit Claw Rip and Tear!
KTS: Leina Ashta has completed their actions for the round.
KTS: Lucine Azul fails to engage evade against Leina Ashta's Beguir Neuer Foot Unit Claw Rip and Tear!
KTS: Critical Hit! Lucine Azul poorly reacts to Leina Ashta's Beguir Neuer Foot Unit Claw Rip and Tear, taking 5720 damage!
KTS: [Dynamic Hit] Leina Ashta's Mass Effect activates, causing Control Bonus!
KTS: Your unit's HP stands at 4081

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        The overseer transport remains perfectly still, a kilometer away. "<The overrides worked,>" says Laura, who (in her opinion) is not being paid nearly enough to deal with this. "<Why isn't it shutting down.>"

        "<Roger,>" Liam says. His voice is terse and clipped, but not emotionless. His psyche is a sickening tempest of shock, horror, and rage, barely contained by deep breaths, months of therapy, and the knowledge that Lucine is dead if he screws up.

        "<Lu. It's Liam. That other unit is here to help. You hear her, don't you? Do you recognize her?>" How does he get her out of her own head? "<I'm safe. You need to breathe, Lu. Please.>"

        The Alto racks its shield, and matches the speed of the other two Mobile Suits. Liam might need to catch a falling cockpit block in the next minute or so.

KTS: Liam 7-020 targets Lucine Azul with Designate L1!
KTS: Liam 7-020 has completed their actions for the round.
KTS: Liam 7-020's Tactical Intelligence activates Alert!
KTS: Lucine Azul accepts Liam 7-020's Designate L1!
KTS: Liam 7-020 designates Lucine Azul, making her easier to target and opening her to indirect fire.
KTS: Best Defense! Lucine Azul successfully reacts to Liam 7-020's Designate L1, taking 0 damage!
KTS: Your unit's HP stands at 4081

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        It's Leina, in the Beguir-Neuer. Lucine's voice hitches in her throat.

        < ".... I messed up... oh god, I messed up..." > Lucine's voice raises in pitch, until her words fall through everyone's speakers with . < ".... everyone knows it, I messed up..." >
        
        Darkness covers the hot cockpit, as Leina manages to snap a taloned foot around the Mobile Suit's head.

        Lucine can't see. She can hear the strain of metal snapping.

        Much time--explain--hostility--drawing you within--

        They're coming to get her. They'll take everyone. They'll claw Liam apart. Shred him. Devour him.

        _She can't let them._

        The unit raises its shaking, remaining hand--

        There's an explosion that releases a shower of sparks, but it's not from any weaponry, but from a failure of the unit itself as the arm hangs loose. The unit, true to its old, experimental nature, has activated the eternal failsafe that plagues all technology: it's shorted out.
        
        There is nothing else here. Nothing else she can do but:

        < "... esc...pe..." > A breath of something masks the word, a brief blip of inexplicable noise that fizzles out to nothing.

        Silence, and a voice. Lucine's, tiny. < ".... It was going so well, when I started..." >

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        There.

        The Alto blurs forwards as the test unit sags and sparks. Liam drives both yokes forward; the machine's arms sweep out and hook around the test unit's shoulders, from below and behind. It doesn't have the flexibility of a Mobile Trace, but it serves.

        "<Lucine,>" Liam says. "<Lucine, we're here. Deep breaths. I want you to reach up and take your helmet off. Take that circlet off. Okay? Please take it off. We're going to get you somewhere safe.>"

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        Caught by Liam's Alto, it becomes even clearer how the suit is sagging. If Leina's Beguir-Neuer wasn't holding it by its 'top', it may have followed its arm in falling into the ocean below.

        < ".... Okay." >

        Inside the cockpit, Lucine uncurls her hands finger by finger off the armrests of her seat, pressing them on the glass of her helmet and slipping it off. Next goes the circlet; this is dealt with carefully, slipping it over her sweat-soaked head and setting it aside.

        < "..... It's off." >

        She lets her body rest against the stiff padding of the cockpit seat, staring at the darkness, and reflecting.
        
        < "..... Le-... Lioness. I'm sorry, for making you have to go through all that. ..... This is my fault; no one forced me to do this. Liam, the workers down below... I thought I had... everything planned out..." > She breathes, trailing off. < "... _I_ let myself think that maybe it was okay to try it, to face my fears. I forgot why I needed to be scared in the first place." > She breathes. < ".... I'll cooperate. I just... might need to... take some aspirin." > Oh god, that's a headache. _That's a HEADACHE_.

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

She listens to Liam try to reach out. And it's Lucine, panicking inside, Leina speaks almost imperiously, as if she's used to this. "<Stop. Pull back. This isn't your fault - at least, not for the reason you think it is. So pull back, and we'll figure this out.>"

She pauses for only long enough to let that sink in, "<And once we're finished, we'll move forward together - okay?>"

Yet Liam speaks to her, and it's clear she's back.

"<It's okay. We'll talk about it.>"

The Beguir's hand, grasps ahold.

"<After we set down, okay?>"

Her own cockpit hatch opens, as if just to show her a face, rather than a mobile suit.

"<We've got you.>"

Yet Lucine, keeps speaking, talking, and Leina says gently-

"<Lucine. You're not under arrest, okay? You messed up, sure, but noone got hurt. ... Lots of people mess up every day, they do something stupid, and you know what they do? They live with it. They move forward.>"

She takes off her own helmet, as she guides the three of them back down to the platform.

"<If you really want to face your fears, there's better ways to do this but - God - Luci you can't rely on a corporation to teach you Newtype tech. That's a recipe for disaster any way you look at it.

Now that they're set down, she pulls off her helmet, "<Now come on, finish powering down - let's not let anxiety rule the day, alright? We've got this.>"

Her backup comes, when it's almost already over, as they start securing the platform, questioning, taking down notes. Shockingly there are no arrests made. Lucine is treated very kindly, relatively speaking, for what happened.

It's all done very professionally, but in the end, the artificial island, the remains of the test mobile suit, all of it...

... it's all seized.

-=-=-

Within his chambers, Prospector sighs, as he filled out sheet of paperwork, after paperwork, "It's going to be overtime for certain fighting this civil forfeiture." He murmurs adjusting his glasses as he looked over these figures, "Secluded testing sites don't just grow on trees." He did smile at least, "At least we operate outside of Cathedra's jurisdiction. That'll cut down on our legal bills nicely."

There came a knock at his door, at that very moment.

"Special Delivery for a Mister... Prospector?"

He cracked his door suddenly, suspicious as he peered around the edge of the slightly slid open door, "If you have a delivery you can leave it in the mail room."

The young woman on the other side of the door smiled, "I have instructions to deliver this to you personally." His gaze sharpened more suspicious than before, "And what's the return address?"

The young woman checked the tag, "The ISC: International Shogi Club. It seems you've been approved for fourth Dan ranking, after your recent professional admission test."

His eyes lit up in wonder, "Ohoho!" The door slid open and he held out his hand, "I'm so sorry for being so antisocial, you see usually when someone turns up at my door with a delivery for me it's-"

As it was placed in his hand, the young woman smiled, "Served." As someone leaning against the wall nearby noted, "And witnessed."

His good cheer vanished in a moment, as he looked at the envelope, "Eh!?" Ripping over the envelope, he went over it, "A notice of audit and citation!? That's outrageous! We're not even under your jurisdiction!"

The young woman took off her fake delivery company hat, and grinned at him, "Funny story! When Nergal applied for the permit to construct that test site, it was when the EFF existed. Now under NUNE negotiated treaties with the United Emirates of Orb - you're considered JUST within international waters."

She salutes.

"Cathedra thanks you for your cooperation."

Prospector just slumped subtly, as all the figures of legal fees just started entering into his head. "What about my Shogi exam?!" He grouses.

"Oh! You failed!" She says as she blithely drops a ripped over envelope.

He slumps lower, before calling out in indignation, "That's theft of the mail, young lady!" The Cathedra Process Server shrugs as she and her witness walked away, calling out dramatically, "Oh nooooooooooo!!! A former Nergal branch manager has accused me of a crime. I suppose you'll have to file in court - a NUNE one."

He narrowed his eyes, "You could at least not act so smug about it." He sighs and gathers up his cruelly opened mail, "Next year. I'll get it next year." Then stares at the number of the citation, "Perhaps... the turn of the century is more realistic."

This was going to be a lot of overtime, smoothing this over.

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        <"Okay. We're going to set you down gently, all right? I love you. I'm here."> Liam can't open his hatch at the moment, but he offers what reassurance he can. Are they under arrest? Leina has that authority, and even if she doesn't, that's definitely a Cathedra battleship backing her up. Now that things are winding down, the adrenaline is seeping out of Liam's system. It takes conscious effort to hold his hands steady. He and Leina lower the remains of the Mobile Suit onto the platform.

        Liam already knows what kind of shape Lucine's going to be in. He helps her out of the cockpit, shields her eyes, and--if allowed--carries her to medical treatment. (He's adamant she needs some, or at minimum, a dark, quiet place to lie down.) He stays by her side the entire time, divulging only the details that are asked for. His role in this whole scheme was moral support--and of course, the operation of the failsafe that mysteriously failed to trigger. It's clear someone taught him how to deal with the cops, and that he's still worried about legal reprocussions, despite Leina's reassurance.

        But it could've gone so, so much worse. They both made it out okay, thanks to Leina's intervention.

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        It's only by calming down in that dark cockpit, and drinking all the remaining water in her bottle, that Lucine's senses begin to open back up, like eyes readjusting to the light.

        Leina is there. Liam is there. Why didn't she notice them before? She feels Leina's concern, Liam's love. < "... I love you too, Liam..." >

        Glancing out the light from the unblocked visor, Lucine sees Leina's face. Her face cracks in a teary smile in response. < "..... Thank you. I owe you, for this." >

        It feels a touch humiliating, how relieved she feels over Leina's words. It must have been hard for Leina, the first time she had to-- no, it'd be that she was forced to. Suddenly Lucine's bizarre idea that it'd be something she'd just learn through trial and error, like everything else she's done, feels even more absurd.

        But she'll live. Because of Leina, and Liam, and the tech crew, as much as they had no clue what was going on.

        Sweaty, a pounding headache, shaky, and unable to really protest against Liam's demands that she get treatment, Lucine is glad to not have to walk anywhere; she can't manage to politely hide it.

        "..... Next time.... I'll let you pick where our next date is," she murmurs, settling in Liam's arms. "..... this one... was a bust, I think."