2024-06-28: Your Orders and Mine
- Log: 2024-06-28 Your Orders and Mine
- Cast: Trem Firmal, Elan Ceres
- Where: Asticassia School of Technology
- OOC - IC Date: June 28, UC 0099 (2024)
- Summary: The CEOs of Peil Technology are perfectly aware there's more to Trem Firmal than meets the eye. Consequently, after negotiations with her superior, they've ordered "Elan Ceres" to keep a closer eye on her--by joining in on an upcoming Gaia Sabers mission of hers. Neither of them are in a position to refuse.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
Trem is inside one of Peil House's secure facilities. It is a rather advanced facility, and one that few Peil House students are cleared to go to. Peil's owners prefer it that way...
...but it's not that rare for Asticassia.
This particular area is a ready room. A briefing room, where students, employees, and other classes of individual tied to Peil receive missions. Trem walks into the briefing room, with a normal suit on -- no helmet, so her pale pink hair bobs as she walks -- and a datapad in one hand.
Her feeling of annoyance is, mostly, kept off her face. The Peil ladies had issued a demand.
She isn't in any position to turn them down. And thus, she stands her and waits for the person she will be bringing along on her mission.
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
Elan Ceres likewise isn't in a position to turn them down. Compared to some, he's in a position of exceptional privilege--as long as he keeps that pretty face of his. This, too, is part of that.
As head of Peil House, he naturally has access to this particular facility--has been there often. He doesn't arrive in a normal suit but in his school uniform, his student handbook/phone/datapad tucked securely away. He walks down hallways, enters codes, and approaches the door to the briefing room where Trem Firmal awaits. It whooshes open, the motion sending a faint breeze to brush his bangs and tassel earrings slightly to one side.
Elan pays it no mind. He simply steps inside, letting the door shut in his wake, as he eyes Trem without expression. "Trem Firmal," he greets her in his soft, apathetic voice.
Then he seats himself and watches her as he waits to be briefed.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
"Elan Ceres," Trem says. Her voice is quiet, and distant, and... some of the usual friendliness isn't quite there. It's distant, but not friendly.
She looks at him for a moment. Her eyes follow the bangs and tassel earrings' sway. Then, she looks down at the datapad, with her silver eyes.
"Our mutual benefactors have... asked you accompany me, on one of my missions as..." She hesitates for just a moment. The lie is a little more see-through. "...an intern, with the Gaia Sabers organization."
There is a moment's pause.
"The Captain of the unit I'm working with has an Autonomous Action License," she explains. "They have made arrangements to grant you a temporary security clearance to come with us. However, you're strictly forbidden from speaking about tomorrow's mission to anyone except your superiors at Peil Technologies. Do you understand?"
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
It's fine if she's distant but not friendly. That makes it easier.
Similarly, when Trem explains what he is to do and asks if he understands, he nods but once. There isn't the faintest glimmer of surprise or confusion on his deadpan. It helps that his "superiors at Peil Technologies" have let him know the bare bones already, this being the meeting where he was to learn the details; it helps more that he doesn't care.
Whether he's an "intern" or anything else doesn't matter. He's to get into a mobile suit and engage in real combat, as opposed to the duels held at Asticassia, and follow the orders Trem's captain gives him. Anything beyond that--there's already plenty he's forbidden to talk about. This is the same thing as always; he's just answering to a different face.
For now, he waits and listens for more details.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
"We're moving against a resource satellite named Sveaborg, at L1," Trem explains. "It acts as a prison for... people with certain political views. A group called Katharon is launching a rescue operation."
Trem touches a button on her datapad; then, the screen lights up, with a picture of a mined-out asteroid base, and several facilities on it.
"...We'll be intercepting them, with a plan to take out the insurgents and ensure their rescue operation doesn't take place," Trem says. "Any questions so far?"
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
There are plenty of questions one could ask. What are these "certain political views"? How did the Gaia Sabers find out that Katharon is going to try to rescue them? How many targets are there? How many allies? Does "take out" mean defeat and capture, or does it mean kill? What's to happen to the prisoners? Where and when will they rendezvous? Who's in charge? What mobile suit is he to use? ...And so on and so forth.
Does Elan ask any of them?
"No."
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
Trem looks a little surprised. And, more human, a little uncomfortable -- like she expected questions, and for this to be more awkward, and there aren't any. She blinks her eyes, her rehearsed answers evaporating.
Then she nods.
"All right, then," she says. "There will be a number of Gaia Sabers present. As... Peil Technologies prefers your identity be kept secret, we'll be saying you're a new transfer to the unit I'm attached to, Chimera Team."
Trem shakes her head. "You're Dragon-4, for this mission. I'm Snake-3. Corporal Johannson is Goat-2, and Lieutenant Commander Romero is Lion-1."
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
Elan takes no pleasure or dissatisfaction at Trem's surprise and discomfort, however subdued they might be. She takes it in stride soon enough, and so strides forward.
The fact that his identity is to be kept secret is no surprise either. That, too, was part of his bare-bones pre-briefing.
The mission codenames, though... Dragon-4. Does she suspect? She isn't supposed to know. Still, Elan keeps that thought to himself and only says, "Understood."
He knows he'll have a normal suit with a one-way tinted helmet to avoid his face getting seen. But he won't be putting that on until later.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
She doesn't guess at the way he wonders.
"If asked, say you're a new transfer from the AEU," Trem says, with a shake of her head.
She is quiet for a moment.
"Officially, you report to the Captain. However, the Captain doesn't prefer to make themselves known on these operations," she explains. "So... Lion-1 will be in charge."
A beat.
"I'll be your liaison, if there's questions," she adds. "Lion-1 tends to resent having to 'babysit.'" She says that a little flatly.
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
That's a curious way of putting it, that the Captain 'doesn't prefer to make themselves known.' While Elan might not care, he isn't overlooking these details, either. It's still pointless to ask who the Captain is, but their habitual absence will be part of his later report.
Still, it's important to know whose orders he's supposed to follow and what cover story he's supposed to tell. Lion-1--Lt. Commander Romero--is someone he'll have to watch once the mission is underway. And... he hates having to 'babysit.' Elan understands that implication right away. Both of them are students, teenagers; he doesn't know about Trem, but while he has a lot of skill at piloting, he has no live combat experience. An actual military officer probably would be irritated to have someone like that under his command.
"Understood," he thus repeats. This time, though, he adds, "When and where is the mission supposed to commence?"
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
"Tomorrow morning, 0930," Trem says. A little military speak, to make it feel more real, perhaps. She shifts a little, slightly on edge as she considers.
"We're departing tonight," she adds. "We'll need to form up with them. The shuttle leaves at 10 o'clock. We'll have bunks aboard, and our suits."
She hesitates, for a second. "The Gaia Sabers plan to test a new weapon, for stopping shuttles," Trem explains. "I'll have it on my unit. The Captain..."
Trem is quiet. Distant, for a moment.
"...They indicated in the report that they'd like you to help guard my Mobile Suit, when I deploy it," Trem says. "Are you okay with that?"
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
Elan barely blinks as Trem explains the specifics of the mission, at least in terms of where to be and when to go. The matter of informing his teachers he won't be in tomorrow will be taken care of, he knows; all he needs to do is carry out this mission.
This mission, which includes keeping a particularly close eye on Trem. A girl who should be just a student like him. A girl who is telling him that the Captain wants him to guard her when she deploys--or rather, guard her mobile suit with that special new weapon. That special new weapon that a teenager's MS will have equipped, rather than the leader of the squadron. It could be that Trem is meant to be cannon fodder, that the weapon isn't fully stable and she's considered disposable enough to risk using it. But it could also be that Trem is much more important than her position initially appears. He knows he's being brought on because it's the will of his "benefactors," but they have their eyes on her for other reasons--and he's meant to act on their behalf. Which means that while he might be disposable, she probably is not.
So, is he okay with that?
"It doesn't matter," he replies.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
It's letting on more than Trem would like. If she is being honest with herself, it endangers a lot of her mission at Asticassia. If people ask too many questions, she has a problem.
Still...
His answer bothers her. It's so much like an answer she might provide. No, might have provided once, until she learned better. Until--
She shakes her head.
"It doesn't matter?" she repeats. "What you think, in this case?"
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
There's a first hint of a reaction now at that question: a glimmer of puzzlement in his otherwise indifferent eyes. Elan regards Trem for a moment, not understanding why she would ask that. There is a mission; it is to be completed, by him; anything else besides that doesn't matter. It's exactly as he said. So why does she want to know what he thinks?
Is she suspicious? Is Dragon-4 a message after all, and not a mere coincidence?
And so: "What do you mean?"
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
"You're not... bothered to be sent on a mission like this," Trem says.
And, in a way, it's a question. She is surprised he isn't bothered; she expected him to be. It's not the sort of thing people at this school do, really, as far as she knows. She hesitates for a moment.
In a way, though, it isn't a question. Because he doesn't seem bothered. He accepted this, easily.
"I'm surprised that you say it doesn't matter," she finishes.
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
He isn't bothered. ...That's one way to interpret it. Elan remains silent; it's pointless to specify nuance. Because it doesn't matter.
What he wants, what he thinks, what he feels--all of it means nothing, because he is cursed. No past, no future, and sooner rather than later, he will return to dust. It's not as if being bothered would make any difference, either. So it's better to give in to the inevitable without getting invested. There's nothing to get invested in.
But it's true that's not what the normal student here is like. But then, Trem isn't like a normal student either. Perhaps that's why they're both here now--even if Elan doesn't think she's like him. He does need to give an answer, though, because she's important, probably. Unlike him.
"I have my orders," he thus replies, puzzlement settling back into apathy. "Just like you have yours."
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
Trem looks at him -- watching him curiously. Her expression isn't blank -- but of course, that distant, spaced out look is a mask of its own. It hides a lot, and it slips for a moment, as she looks genuinely baffled.
And when he gives his answer...
She thinks of her life of Asticassia. She thinks of her purpose in life, and the ways that it changed.
But the ways, too, that it hasn't.
Trem is quiet, for a moment, and her left hand grips her right wrist tightly. A little too tightly.
"Yes," she says. "So we both do. And... we'll complete them."
<Pose Tracker> Elan Ceres has posed.
If anything... it looks to Elan like Trem is the one who's bothered. That spaced-out look giving way to bafflement; the way she grips her wrist too tightly. But that doesn't matter either. So while he notes it, he doesn't bother to analyze it. That's for someone else to figure out.
For now, she acknowledges the correctness of his statement. He stands up from his chair. "I'll see you again tonight," he says, and moves to leave.
<Pose Tracker> Trem Firmal has posed.
"Mm."
Trem nods, as he moves to leave. She doesn't add anything more -- she glances at him as he leaves. Then, her fingers slacken. Her arms fall back to her side, as she looks into the distance again.
She considers, for a moment, those orders. But only a moment, before she turns too.