Fort Nozomi
BLDG 4
"Good morning, beautiful." Aliset's nude form sat straddled over Sacre's hips, one hand holding a cup of fresh coffee, the other gently teasing her girlfriend's nose with a finger. "We got orders. Apparently we're doing a formal event tonight. So, I'm gonna keep my head down as the lost little xeno captain with the important girlfriend."
Sacre looked up at Aliset, her hand caressing Aliset’s hips for a few moments before responding. Just enjoying Aliset’s warm body on top of hers. “I’m still not sure why you're acting like that. It feels weird.”
"For both of us. But the Anti-xenoist League right now is using the Star Army's bad press to paint all offworlder interactions as bad, thus promoting cultural purity. That anyone not Kodian is just a tourist. Or worse, a colonizer. So the fastest way to counter that, in my eyes, is to not be a tourist, and to not be Army." Taking a sip from the coffee, her face twisted slightly. "Eugh… Just how you like it. Anyway, that means someone trained to infiltrate and assimilate quickly needs to make a home and community group within Kodian culture to undermine the rhetoric. Enter a Tsulrati. More social than humans, learn and adapt quickly, et cetera. It sucks, not being honest, the way I like to be. But it lets me be a good example and a prime target. Combined with my diplomatic training from Shurista, and I can quickly build a network of contacts, possibly even on both sides of the conflict. If they decide to pull some fuckies, well, as long as we keep my telepathy under our hats, I might be able to get some information. It keeps you off the front lines and keeps the press away from people who aren't so well behaved. Moreover, our relationship paints the picture that not all the Star Army is as bad as they claim. Cause why would such a pure innocent bean like me go for a killer? I hate politics, and I hate psy ops, but this is what my original training was in. Nothing weird for either of us, except a couple pieces of paper."
“Black without any sweetners or milk means that you just get the coffee and nothing else.” Sacre commented, taking her own sip of coffee from the cup on the table. “I guess I just see the Army as taking a ‘Yamatai is multi-species band of brothers and Kodians are one of them’ sort of approach. They want people to see the species working together in harmony as a model for the Kodians to follow. Also you are going for a killer, but I suppose they don’t have to know that. Unless they look me up or something.”
"Well, there is that aspect. But a lot of the rhetoric I'm going to be handling is on the civilian side. What better way to do it than the lense of a transport captain whose ship was impounded by the Star Army, who refused to leave her love's side, and who's stuck on Gashmere until peace comes? It's really a beautiful story. Straight out of some cheap Nepleslian romance novel." A slight wiggle of Aliset's hips accented her smirk. "I'll be okay. All we're doing is being us. So. Want some breakfast in bed before we get dressed and go up to deal with a bunch of useless admiralty and even more useless nobles?"
It was hard for Sacre to express how exciting a simple hip wiggle could be, but it was there. “It could be worse, we could have to deal with useless politicians.” Sacre said thinking about it. “I do know that I’d rather stay in bed with you than face all of that.”
"I'll handle the politicians if you handle the admirals." Aliset started scooting down Sacre's tail, leaning down to kiss her belly… At least until she decided to take a deep breath, press her face into the soft flesh, and blow a loud raspberry against Sacre’s tight abs.
Sacre curled up a little bit, her hands going to Aliset’s head. “Oh stop it.” She said playfully. Her hands touching the back of aliset’s head and scratching it gently.
"Would you rather I go lower? Or are we getting dressed, now? Would you break my heart, so?" With a mischievous grin, Aliset settled some of her weight down, not enough to be painful. "Cause I don't want to go to some space station today. But alas, we have a job to do. And I think I have this lovely black dress you'll love seeing me in. Even if it looks better on the floor."
“Lower, we can save getting dressed until we actually have to go.” Sacre said with a downward pressure on Aliset’s head.
~~~ (Fading that to black!) ~~~
After Aliset was absolutely sure she and Sacre had woken up their neighbors, her near skin tight dress hid her heating pads and battery pack reasonably well, with threads woven in to shimmer like the night sky. She wore her knife on her hip in line with tradition, and a shawl draped over her shoulders as she went over the itinerary for the evening.
"Alright, so new ship launch, lots of brass there, some fellow by the name of Anslen? Hey, Sacre, I'd like to meet your parents one day. What do you think?"
“That’s my father’s name, common enough though.” Sacre said wistfully, then Sacre’s mouth compressed into a hard line, “They died during the occupation, as did a lot of my family, my father was too outspoken. I never even really wanted to see them. My parents and I fought a lot, I ran away from home several times. When I wanted to go back, it was too late. I can’t even remember what it was that we fought over before I left, but it seemed important at the time.” Sacre explained, a bit of regret in her voice.
"Ah." Her voice seemed soft and small, for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that. My father and I fought before I left, too. He thought I should stay on Soren. I'm sure your father would be incredibly proud to see the amazing woman you've become. I know I'm lucky to be in your life."
Sacre nodded but was unsure. “Perhaps he would, but perhaps he wouldn’t. He seemed more interested in his business than his children. I don’t know what he would have said, but he wasn’t ever pleased with me. But that might be my rebellious streak coloring my memories.”
"That's a streak? Not just your normal self?" Aliset responded with a cocked eyebrow and a joking smile. "In all honesty, it's never easy to please one's parents. I've dealt with enough fosters to know that for damn sure. But that's why it can be hard to believe they can still be proud. Even if you didn't turn out exactly the way they wanted. Mom wanted me to become a historian. Dad wanted a load master. And my grandmother wanted me to be a Smith. You see how well those options turned out. If it helps any, I'm proud of you. Please don't be too hard on yourself."
“Why do you think they had to go to such extreme measures to break me? Once something is broken, it can be repaired but isn’t ever whole again. I want… I want things to be right, to be able to overcome my failures. If it’s not right, then it needs to be made right. My father wanted my older brother to take over the business when he was old enough. He was a blacksmith, he thought I’d be able to help. But he was also an industrialist. He didn’t just work metal, he owned the smithies and more. He expected people to do their best, and if they didn’t, then they weren’t good enough.” Sacre sighed.
“But… he was still my father. And I have to wonder if I’m judging him too harshly. Perhaps I just wanted to do my own thing and was unwilling to learn. I guess I’ll never know now.” Sacre said, and there was a bit of pain there at the relationship that would remain forever broken.
"Why don't you take a look at your necklace for me? And by the way, you look amazing."
Sacre looked down and pulled the necklace out of the formal dress uniform. The golden metal felt cool to the touch. She looked at herself holding it in the mirror. The uniform concealed Kusanagi, her Zesuaium monomolecular edged and knit fighting knife with a powered blade. It was capable of punching through armor and wasn’t cheap. As this was a formal event with the Army, her Order Of The Blazing Sun was appropriate for her to wear. The red ribbon stood out against the blue and green. On her left she wore a Type 33 NSP in gold and ivory, meant as a decorative piece rather than as a weapon, although in a pinch it would perform. Under it was slung one of her two departures from the formal Uniform. It was wearing the NCO sword rather than an officer sword. Reflecting that she had been enlisted first. The other was on her right hip, it was a medical kit. She was never going to be unprepared for something happening, even if it was unlikely.
"Who taught me to make that? It wasn't my grandmother. It wasn't the woman who it's made of. Burial Steel gifts like that are supposed to be something meaningful to the maker, precious. But not necessarily a big part of the gifted's pride. That was probably the best date we had. Aside the first. If he could see it, know what it means and what it's made of, I know, no matter how bad your last fight, he'd be glowing with pride."
Sacre still had her doubts, but the past was past now. She tugged down on her uniform to straighten it into the perfection she expected when she was wearing a class A. She turned to Aliset and gave one of her exceedingly rare genuine smiles. There were only two people who were able to make her smile. It lit up her face, “Well, if I’m blinded by your beauty, then it’s worth it to see you like this.” She said.
"I'm more likely to be blinded by that perfect smile, if we're honest," a blue flush crossed Aliset's cheeks before she stepped forward, stealing the smile as a kiss. "But we've stalled long enough. We'd best get to the shuttle or deal with the admiral chewing us out on the late shuttle."
