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RP: LSDF Akahar [Prologue] - From Dark

"But off-duty you can call me Merril," The wildcat added onto the introduction, stepping out from behind the doorway. She didn't shake hands with the new guy, but still issued a friendly wave from where she stood. Another toothy grin.

"So, we gonna see the sleeping quarters?" She asked, resuming the strange fluid motions with her hand from earlier. Only one hand did this, however, as the second was busy making sure the duffel strap was secured to her shoulder.
 
The young shugged after Bastion's answer about his position couldn't be helped he guessed. As for introductions the one thing he paid particular note of was that he was obviously the lowest ranked present.
Mist was a bit thrown by how quickly the introduction process went. He was much more used to lengthy introductions thanks to the Fyuunnen of previous assignments. No matter it was his turn now. "I will keep that in mind Medic Soft Touch. I am Ranger Shrie'keng Mist Lmanel. Call me as you will." Shrie'keng followed up his reply by giving a nod towards the medics wave. The suggestion of visiting the sleeping quarters sounded brilliant to him. He could do without the duffel being on his back and far more importantly his wings. A thought came to Mist though, "Do we have assigned bunks?" Hopefully it wouldn't come of as a complaint. He'd rather not have the Trooper he would likely serve under thinking he was going to complain about everything. Oh well, it was said already. Time to deal.
 
Carrying his duffle bag over his right shoulder, Masakaji walked his way over to the Akahar. When he arrived, he noticed there was no one around. His face showed his annoyance for a moment before he thought he heard voices.

Returning his face to neutral, he walked in the direction of the voices. Hopefully they can show him who he needs to see. And if they proved hostile to his presence, he will figure something out. His orders on the datapad he had would likely not be enough.
 
Bastion smiled and looked at the two. She took out her datapad and checked few things. The ship ran on skeleton crew. These two were new addition after long time. From all the data she found there was enough free rooms. That was actually a little sad. Those rooms were meant to house four soldiers and there were free rooms.

"Housing won't be a problem." Bastion said to Mist and Soft Touch. "You both can have a room of your own. Unless you would like to room together." She said, still checking on her datapad.

Then she heard steps, her head raised and she looked in the direction where they came from. There was a man walking towards them. He was no Lorath. Jyuiaan or nepleslian. One could never tell. Fact was he wore a LSDF uniform, but she never saw him aboard before.

Bastion made a few steps towards him. "Can I help you... trooper?" She said looking at his rank-bar. They were both same rank, so she could not boss him around, but that was okay. Hopefully he just got lost. Bastion was sure she did not hear about any other addition to the crew.
 
Masakaji stopped a few feet from Bastion. With the huge difference in height, he was staring at her hips. He moved up to meet her square in the eyes. But he was also studying the massive Lorath's figure, resisting the urge not to linger at her chest.

He pulled out his datapad and selected his orders to be displayed. He held it out in front of him so she could see
"Shimakaga Masakaji reporting." Masakaji spoke in in response to Bastion's question. He kept his face professional and neutral. He noticed the smaller two Loraths as well, but his focus was on Bastion for the moment.
 
Bastion just reached and grabbed the datapad, not caring if he was handing it to her or just showing. She was in no mood to bend down and look at the screen like that. She also noticed how his eyes stayed on her breasts for a little while, but she did not mind that all that much. It was hard for anyone not to do that. Whoever tried to look at her face had to look up and meet her chest along the way. The fact that her breasts were where other people's faces were did not help.

Bastion used her neural interface to link with Aria as she checked over the orders. It took several seconds, before she gave him the datapad back. "Everything seems fine trooper. Welcome aboard Akahar." She said and presented her hand for a handshake. "I was about to show these two to quarters. Want to go with us?"
 
"Huh, a foreigner!" Merril remarked, peering around the bulk of woman that was Bastion. Her tone bore no ill-will but still was a little odd, continuing with, "Don't see those serving on a ship every day. Higher ranked, too. You from kitty-land?"

She flashed the newcomer another one of her famous fanged smiles to the newcomer. Those were being passed around like candy, but what did she care? It was far better to get off on the right foot and save her the trouble of having to kick somebody's ass later down the line.
 
Keib eyed the footage of the new people coming in and smiled, and noticed something unusual, then grinned, "Hakahn, take a look." The footage zoomed into a box in the new arrivals area, "I didn't order a box."

"A... box? You'd think a gimmick nearly a thousand years old would be idiocy." Commented the Fyunnen as he 'appeared' behind Keib, leaning over the smaller New Tur'Lista to watch the 'box', a slight expression of annoyance on his face.

"It worked for me on the Ur'balk reclaiming several years back," Keib shrugged before looking over to his erstwhile servant, "But anyway. Investigation. Must do it. Greg, would you kindly?"

"Mmfhrm." Greg agreed before trotting off with a smile.

Magically almost, a cup of steaming hot coffee 'appeared' in the ship commander's hand as he idly sipped from it, watching the events unfold with some interest.

-

The thing itself was a dull snowy white perhaps a meter and a half across, smooth ribbed carbon layered in threads - scuffed by whoever had brought it with its edges revealing the black carbon beneath. Letters signed a name in Lorath that took a second look to decypher beneath a brand name the crew were increasingly (and perhaps unwillingly) becoming familiar with, thick bolts with thin handles descended into the body like the pins of a coffin.

Greg looked at it curiously and measured the dimensions by eye, using its fingers and thumb and having a good idea of the distance it was standing from to deduce that this box could comfortably fit a person inside of it. "Lvrvfrfh." Greg mumbled, looking at the brand name and scratching its head. It decided not to mince words any longer, and get it open.

Fingers would twist the four pins, lifting them out of the assembly, almost like explosive bolts with a swift vaccumed pop as the lid came loose, slipping away like an Apple sliced in half.

Beneath the lid amongst white foam cubes of varying sizes, a glossy package, vacuum sealed around what appeared to be a small pale body hunched in the fetal position - fibered maroon cabling wrapped about its wrists, ankles and various other places, terminating in small sockets about the back of its neck that resembled the ends of stethescopes. Accompanying this strange setup was a thick bit between its teeth and a blindfold with what seemed to be clamps returning to the sockets which covered its mouth and eyes. Shiibari would come to mind. Almost like a ham order to roast.

Meanwhile, Keib exchanged a surprised glance to Hakahn and a smile over the video screens. Hakahn looked toward Keib, his facial expression conveying an unspoken question, 'Is it yours?' The executive officer shook his head in reply. The ship commander merely nodded, lifting the XO's communicator from it's cradle.

"Security, this is Ship Commander KaShan, we have an unknown in the ship berthing area, respond accordingly but hold fire until further instructions." He said in a flat.. almost bored voice as his cold eyes continued to stare at the image feed.

Greg was not nearly as composed as his superior, standing back to let the box unfold, and then just looking at the person inside the box. A helashio? No! Far from it. Greg tilted his head at the figure in the box.

Feeling the change in temperature, the sealed body would twitch and for a moment thrash like a fish on the deck, dreaming - the sound of the sealed plastic quite loud. Greg reacted by jumping away in fright again, before trying to unwrap this strange present. Little by little with his clawed hands.

First, the outer packaging would come away, a claw breaking the seal of the plastic - the action having the small body thrashing. From there, it would offer its wrists, the cabling needing to be cut as it shook in the cool air.

Looking down at the wrists and giving them a surprised mumble, and it obliged. To the beleagured assistant, this was amongst the weirdest of things it'd seen all day.

"Hm... frfhm?" It pondered as it tried to disconnect the cables.

Shaking fingertips rose to pull at the clasp about its face, fingers loosening restraining bolts either side of its temple and then its cheek. Both hands grappling at the bit, it would pull away at the thing which clung inside its throat like some complex squid of plastic and medical chromed plastic, coughing pale milky fluid up onto the deck and upon Greg's Labcoat, still blind-folded.

"Date?" the feminine figure promptly barked as if it had some semblence of authority. It got a reply when the blindfold was pulled from her eyes, and a digital watch with '28/10/YE34' was put in front of her, accompanied by a pointing hand and a helpful mumble. The assistant looked down at its labcoat and sighed.

Like a child, she was doing math on her fingertips now, muttering as she counted many days and then many weeks, nodding in satisfaction once she had some idea of how long she'd been in the crate in soft-sleep.

"So what did you break?"

A silence.

"From the sound of it, your vocal cords seem fine but your tongue could use work."

"Hmn." Greg groaned with a shrug and rolling eyes.

She soon had her arms wrapped about herself, having expected the captain to be present, shaking like a cat following a deeply unwanted bath. "Towel?"

-

"Want me to say hello?" Keib asked his superior.

Hakahn held the communicator to the New'Turlista, his eyes still locked on the screen.

The New Tur'Lista cleared his throat and started, "Hello and Welcome, new arrival. I was planning to greet you with the rest of the new folks," His voice addressed "But it seems my assistant Greg has had to welcome since neither of us remember asking for something from Lazarus, bless 'em."

"You didn't." she snipped back, still shivering. Greg had gone missing for a moment. Despite her lack of composure, she still had it in her to be rather harsh at the best of times. Greg returned with a towel and gave her a nod.

"We have an i...-invested interest in this mission," she felt her synthetic teeth clatter, tongue checking to see if the seals were still in place for a moment as she thought over how she'd deliver the alternative agenda, wrapping herself up in the towel. "I take it you have a standard medical bay?" she'd grumble, noting that the diagnostic routines weren't working.

"Check the Mok'Ro cargo logs, will you?" Keib asked his superior off camera while he kept his new guest entertained, "Of course we do. What're you after? Soldiers, please assist this woman." The handful soldiers who were monitoring the situation lowered their rifles and slung them over their backs.

Somewhere on the volumetric display Hakahn's hands danced, bringing up the various files concerning the Mok'Ro before finally settling on her final inventory log. With a stretching of the hand he brought it to the forefront of Keib's display. There were some Lazarus items of an undisclosed nature on the ship. That explains a lot.

"I need to make sure I'm intact for one. Storing the body like this is a gamble, even with quasisynthetics."

Quasi synthetic? Oooohhh... The inner scientist was getting the better of the executive officer, his expression lit up as he leaned in, "Sure thing. I'll have Greg and the Lab Boys check you out. Assuming you're an ARIA, which chassis?"

"3.5. Not slated for release for another year. If you're so fascinated, Mr. Smart-pants, take a look yourself."

"I think I will! Welcome to the LSDF Akahar!" He put the comms down and could be heard walking away from them.

Standing to her feet, she'd struggle with her balance at first, wobbling before falling face-flat against the deck with a resounding clunk. Greg helped her back onto her feet and looked at her with a concerned frown, almost saying 'Are you alright?'

Maroon eyes would stare back in distaste beneath wet matted black hair, promptly shoving the Helashio aside with what little balance she did have. Her gaze lowered slowly as a moment of realization set in, eyeing the unfamiliar sensation of the deck beneath and then her toes.

"This is new."

The soldiers exchanged glances, unsure of whether extending courtesy was a good thing or a bad thing, based this new arrival's conduct and appearance. Some exchanged shrugs.

It took quite a while before she'd even realise they were stood there, her naked body seemingly abscent of any secondary sexual characteristics, like a doll or sculpture. "Medbay. Now."

"Chop chop, you heard the woman." Keib could be heard walking towards the group, and the handful of soldiers sprung into action, escorting the walking doll towards the medical facilities, "So..." He asked as he and the other soldiers were walking through the ship's halls at a liesurely clip, wearing his lab coat open and proudly displaying a shirt from an Aethersperm concert that took place in YE32.

"You like music?" she mused, mulling over a new sensation. She wasn't aware that she could feel a headache in here present state but alas, such things were possible much to her dismay. She spent a few moment staring at the shirt for a moment before her eyes would rise back to Keib.

"To quote every Nepleslian out there: Fuck Yeah." Switching from Lorath to fluent Trade without thought.

For the first time, she would be seen smiling, lips parting to reveal the small marbles of milk-teeth. "Huuh... This is... unexpected. If I even breathed a word about this back at the dorm, I'd... " she trailed for a moment. "What is your name?"

"Executor Mar'zhaz Keib 'The Howler' New Tur'Lista. No need for all the dignitaries - just Keib will do." He was happy to answer as he turned a corner and went into the medbay, mulling over what this new arrival meant by 'dorm'.

The med bay was outfitted like most others of its type. There was very little variance amongst races as to the functions of a medbay, it'd just be that the labels were in different languages or the items in different places, and there'd always be a slab in the middle for the wounded. Either way, the tools were all there, and the doctor on duty was sitting back with a Nepleslian comic book, idle as could be. He looked up to Keib and raised an eyebrow at the new arrival.

Meanwhile, the commanding officer of the ship was watching all of this unfold with a fascinated stare.

-

Without permission, she hoisted herself up onto a Kakutama Heavy Industries Treatment and Examination Bed - noting it to be higher than she was used to and taking several attempts to climb aboard. She laid back, peering about as she noted a volumetric display. She soon began tapping through results, occasionally eyeing the doctor. "What are you reading?"

"That new Phoenix Man! comic. It's supposed to be based on a true story or somesuch," He said tersely, putting the pages down on a bench and moving over, "What's up?" He looked at the strange, oddly featureless body up and down. It wasn't unlike looking over Greg to him.

"Basic checks. Nothing I need help with" she quietly disregarded him, her attention in the display and the results. "Could you fetch me some protein derms?"

The medic nodded and moved away to the cupboards to fetch the necessary materials. Keib, meanwhile, was leaning against the wall and was watching. "I can see that you're running on something most people would consider impossible. But, as far as we're concerned, those people are thinking small, right?" He grinned.

"I like you." she replied. "In a metaphorical sense, I'm not actually here with you -- nor in a legal sense, though technically my authority does legally carry over if I have a reperesentative here. And who better than myself?"

"So you're probably sitting in a cozy dorm somewhere far, far away, hooked up to something and running this body by proxy." He snapped his fingers idly as he tried to guess. This was a fascinating discourse to him, "You could reasonably be in a few places at once if you have no problems acquiring a body and hurling it somewhere, and given your employers - that is no problem at all."

"Actually, I'm independent. There's no puppeteering or wirework between me and ... Well. Me. I'm a translated construct of the original Aiesu - though for security reasons, I can't share the rest of my name or my house." she quietly continued, going over details as she thought about things rather carefully. "I am required to report back to my origin but otherwise, I'm autonomous."

I feel like I'm forgetting something. The executive officer pondered before looking at the camera, "That's right - Hakahn, could you call a meeting for our new arrivals? They have an assignment. I'll catch up when I'm done here." He then looked back to Aiesu, "Hakahn 'Braincase' KaShan Fyuunen. Ship commander. Bit of a stick in the mud, but knows his stuff."

" 'Braincase'? " Aiesu echoed. The XO tapped his head and gave her a wink and a cheeky grin.

A voice, sounding slightly intrigued filtered into the compartment through the ship's intercom system, "Attention, all recently arrived personnel report to the main pilot ready room in thirty minutes, that is all." A brief pop announced the system had been turned off.

Greg had poked into the room with a fresh lab coat, and a somewhat annoyed expression towards Aiesu. Keib raised an eyebrow as to why, and then made a simple "Ah." after a prolongued mumble from the gender-neutral-by-science-accident Helashio.

"Does that thing have a name?" Aiesu quizzed, glancing from the reports on her volumetrics with a sigh - some minor surgery required to make up for the storage decay.

"Greg." Keib replied, "My understudy, and everyone's friend on ship. I teach him - er, it some science and engineering basics when I've got the time."

"It?" Aiesu echoed, giving Greg another thoughtful look. It was apparent that behind the labcoat and beneath the underwear Greg was wearing, there appeared to be nothing at all.

Keib coughed in reply, rolling his eyebrows and making a grimace, "Long story."

"I hate waiting rooms. Now would be a good time," Aiesu said, hopping off the bed. "Is there something I could wear?" The doctor off-duty obliged by passing her some casual clothes from a clean laundry basket, amongst which was a Kirin Games Manufacture t-shirt.

Aiesu dressed, seemingly without modesty for herself on the spot, eyeing the shirt thoughtfully as she pulled on a pair of shorts and the shirt which came to about her thighs, several sizes too large and almost obscuring the shorts entirely. She sighed, shoulders rolling back with a click as she nodded. "Lead the way."

"Certainly." The mad scientist replied, opening the door for her. He noticed something as he held the door open, "Like Kirin?" Delsaurian gaming company that somehow managed to stay relevant in a gigantic world of starships, guns, war and death. No mean feat, but where there was boredom, there was always something to enjoy wasting time with if you had a SYNC connection.

"I've heard of them but little more," she said, making her way down the corridor with Keib, seemingly detached from her situation as if she were going to fall asleep.

"Once we're done with this Mok'Ro business, want to get a deathmatch going on NSS DeathWish?"

"What's a deathmatch?" the smaller of the two parried. Despite her vast knowledge, she was quite ignorant of many matters in the universe. The doctor just grinned in her direction before walking into the Pilot Ready Room and awaiting the new soldiers.

"You'll see once I brief everyone," He sat down and looked about the ready room, double checking that all of the soldier's items were in place, and that there was plenty of room for the new arrivals and previous soldiers on this mission, and Greg took its place next to him and crossed its arms. The doors were still open to the ship, and after this meeting, it would take off.

Aiesu, rather strangely chose to remain standing.
 
First pocketing his returned datapad, Masakaji smiled. He took the woman's massive hand to complete the handshake. "Sure, need to become familiar with this class beyond schematics anyways." Masakaji spoke.

"You from kitty-land?"

Masakaji's smile somewhat vanished once he heard kitty-land. "I was once with the United Outer Colonies Peacekeepers. So to answer your question...yes..." He responded with an awkward smile. He really did not like talking about "home". He was stuck in a limbo of sorts. He never wants to set foot in Yamatai space proper. But he was not enough of a former Nepleslian to be accepted there. He seemed to stare through Merril as if she wasn't there remembering.
 
Mist felt perfectly fine staying out of the conversation Merril had initiated. Given that he didn't particularly care for foreigners he had met before in the LSDF. The UOC must have still been a sore subject the way the new Trooper glassed over after mentioning it. Shrie'keng tucked that little bit of knowledge away, possibly for later.

Hearing the ship announcement left him wondering who had been on the intercom. They had sounded like they spoke with authority but never identified themselves. He thought about is for a moment then shrugged. Meh probably didn't matter anyways. The Lorath had an issue he'd rather take care of anyways. "Trooper Bation. Is there still enough time to drop out gear in bunks or will we go directly to the breifing?"
 
Four Six paused in the doorway.

"Froze" would have been a more accurate description. The white helashio with the banded collar and her shotgun slung over her shoulder stopped in her tracks when she recognized the top of Keib's head from her view near the entrance, a deer in a pair of very bright headlights waiting to be run over.

Keib was sitting in the chair facing the opposite way, so after her heart got around to beating again, Four came down the isle and stopped at the end. She'd somehow acquired a uniform that fit - though how, exactly, the helashio had done this might have been a mystery. Actually, the truth of the matter was theft - but the uniform fit well, anyway, and nobody was complaining. Most importantly she didn't feel like a walking rag pile. There was something that felt really good about a uniform that fit right. Especially boots. Four had been trying to fight the urge to run around barefoot until she'd found a good pair and nicked them.

She gave the Executive Officer a smart salute.

And there were degrees of salute; Four Six used her questionable one, and couldn't help glancing speculatively to the woman with the Sub-Lieutenant. The unspoken question was 'who', but it certainly wasn't Four's place to ask, so she didn't.

"Sir."
 
Aiesu would glance back over her shoulder, clicking her tongue distastefully at the sight of a Helashio better dressed than she was. The fact that such a sight was not unusual to her but not unexpected.

It still stung.

Occupying herself, she wrinkled her bare toes against the deck, pursing her lips inwardly between her teeth to suckle on to silence herself from whatever sound her throat wanted to make - obviously enjoying some sort of novelty that others were not privvy to.

Moments she'd peer back again, eyeing up the Helashio's nametag, seeing numbers where a name should sit. This was unusual but once more, not entirely unexpected.
 
Merril either did notice the trooper's sudden change in demeanor or didn't care. Either way, she continued being unreasonably cheerful. After Mist made his little question, she couldn't help but respond, "The intercom said thirty minutes. Not now, not thirty-one. I'd say we have enough time to throw our bags in a locker somewhere, unless I don't know how to tell time. Ain't any point in heading there if they aren't going to start for another twenty-five minutes."
 
"Four Six, good to see you again," He sighed, "You know you can just call me Keib, right?" He reassured the Helashio. After what he'd done to her about a week and a half back, and her recovery from then till now had proven to be an interesting process to watch.

Muscle Memory was always the first to come back. Emotional memory always took a little longer. There was still a-ways yet until her memories came back to the surface, good and bad.

Two other soldiers shuffled in: Yar'mak and Al'ris, affectionately called the wrecking balls thanks to their respectively stout and strong statures, their toughness, and their ongoing rivalry. The stouter Llmanel infantryman and the taller Fyuunen grenadier bumped into each other with their shoulders and hips in a body check and exchanged grunts of non-verbal disagreement before finding somewhere to sit down, and exchange a steely eyed stare.

"Oh pack it in you two!" Keib chuckled aloud, knowing that the displays from these two never got old. They snapped to attention whenever Keib harped on their intense rivalry. Yar'mak folded his chubby arms and Al'ris put her hands on her lap and crossed her legs at the knee, both were looking away from each other with a blush.
 
Bastion watched the exchange between all the members in front of her. Soft touch sure had a mouth to her. Hopefully the offworlder will manage to not get angry too much. Bastion had to admit that calling Yamatai a kitty land was pretty funny.

"We got plenty time!" Bastion said and waved at the group. "Follow me."

One short elevator ride later they were on Deck and at the quarters. Bastion lead the team through the hallway where rooms were placed. Some were pretty obviously occupied, they had stickers on them or just lock-light was blinking.

"We are a little under-stuffed," Bastion said and pointed down the hall. "Pretty much every room from this point down the hall is empty so just go and pick one. Register it with Aria though. If you want to be bunkmates that is fine too."
 
"Alright, Mister Keib."

The unspoken question, of course, went completely unanswered, so Four dropped her salute and took a seat same-row, slinging the shotgun off her shoulder by its strap and settling it butt-down between her legs. Then, she relaxed back into the chair, which wasn't all that comfortable, took off her field cap and hooked it on the end of her gun's barrel, and set about to listen.

She winced a little as the sounds of the rivalry flitted about in her ears, but Four didn't move. She just sat perfectly still, tail curling around her middle beneath her uniform. Four had worn the uniform correctly today, with the belt clasping over the blouse, and the blouse fully buttoned, so the motion went on beneath her clothing, like a snake curling just a few inches beneath her belt line. This wasn't particularly uncomfortable for her, but it was beginning to get a little warm. Four could feel her own sweat.

With the shirt unbuttoned and the belt around her waist instead of her middle, she could at least breathe, but this looked about as military as pudding and Four was trying, in her own way, to make a fairly good impression - or at least, avoid getting picked on.
 
Aiesu's eyes followed Four like a hawk as Four sat, for a brief moment trying not to laugh in her throat at the sight of Helashio in clothes. She smell the discomfort of the poor girl but some how it wasn't quite enough - and impulses she didn't yet know of herself demanded a proper taste.

With careful steps, Aiesu stood behind Four, her pale fingertips settling onto the girls shoulders - thumbs rolling as her hands tightened in makeshift massage as if doating on a favorite pet. It was curiously pleasant.

But then she spoke, her words like the faintest wisps of smoke like poison just barely clouding water - quiet enough only for Four to hear.

"You don't like clothes, do you? That's fine. But if you are to wear a uniform, at least pretend not to be a helashio." she stated cooly, tightening her fingers. "Do I make myself clear, little one?"
 
Four froze.

This seemed to be a general state of being; some sort of holdover from a time where you could simply stop moving and things would not see you. And in fact this worked remarkably well most of the time. Half the idea behind stealth was making the person look past something - erasing from the mind things that shouldn't be there or that don't move threateningly.

Four didn't really know what to do when faced with a civilian, in a T-Shirt and apparently nothing else, messing with her about her uniform. Four Six had expected this, or something like this, and knew it was going to happen so she had legitimately honestly tried to be perfect for a little while. It all came out in the end, anyway.

In quiet answer, Four reached down between her legs and lifted her field cap from the top of the shotgun barrel.

With all the care of an amature surgeon who's playing a specific, electrical game consisting of trying to get very small objects out of very trickily shaped holes without setting off a buzzer, Four Six settled her cap over her scalp and carefully, very carefully, settled it onto her head so that it wouldn't interfere with her ears very much. The Lorath uniform was not made for Helashio to wear. Clearly, Four was doing so with some discomfort.

Obviously.

She turned her head slightly, to look back, silver eyes never really meeting her tormentor's.

"Um, who are you, Ma'am."
 
"I'm afraid I can't share my full name with you, but you may call me Aiesu" she spoke, fingers quietly buttoning Four's shirt back in the proper form, then working to crisply fold the collar of the uniform as it should be. Her strange familiarity was curiously maternal for such a child-like figure but there was something terribly clinical about it - as if the Helashio didn't deserve personal space.

"If its a problem for you to fit into such a thing, I'm sure it could be adjusted... Though that isn't very uniformal, is it snowflake?

She sighed, her attention elsewhere for a moment.

"If not, I'm sure they can find something else for you to wear - or perhaps change you to fit the uniform. Greg seems perfectly happy, don't you think?" she smiled wistfully, a strange cruelty concealed in warm friendly tones.
 
Four quailed slightly and checked herself. She wasn't wearing the uniform improperly, was she? Had she forgotten something?

The buttons on the top of her shirt had been left open. Otherwise the woman wouldn't have closed them, and the rest of it was just fucking with her. Embarrassed, Four could feel the hair on her ears coming up, and she briefly wondered if maybe, just maybe, she should slick those down with gel, too, like she'd done with the rest of her hair. But that would just be weird, wouldn't it? And it didn't make the problem staring her in the face go away. Four glanced back at the trouble-two, wondering if she could expect some help from them. But...

Four's mind cycled into the category labeled, 'Fucking with you'.

There were certain, minor, barely enforceable military rules that people only cited when they didn't like you. Or when you were a Helashio. And there was only one way to deal with it.

"Thank you, Ma'am, I'm fine now," she said, and then, glancing down to Aiesu's feet and swinging her arm back over the chair, so that it would be awkward to hold her shoulder with at least one hand. Four added, in a voice she hoped didn't sound as mewling as it felt, "Do you want a pair of boots, Ma'am? Or perhaps a uniform, so I can see your rank, ma'am? Because if you're going to correct someone on their uniform wear, ma'am, I believe regulation states that you are to be in the same uniform or better, ma'am."
 
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