Soresu
Well-Known Member
Shuttle
Koyama had seemed to soften as a small horde of children boarded their shuttle. It was a little cramped, their caretakers she'd taken in with a wary, scrutiny running their names and backgrounds through the various databases at her command. And even a few that were not. It paid to have friends in intelligence. Doubly so when one of them was in her weekly pen and paper roleplay game. But to the children, as her mind ticked over the information gathered and over their mission, she seemed all gentle smiles and patience. Warmth where aloof efficiency had been replaced by a seemingly different individual.
The XO had produced her data slate, Sanda had her music, Thad was being... Thad. The other Ranger she'd looked to with a curious eye. The cybernetic attached to her had made her raise one of her sharp eyebrows. Normally Nekovalkyrja proved unable to utilize cybernetics. Unless the woman was one of the 33 A variety she would have to look into this development. Or rather ask Poppy. The engineer dabbled in genetics on the side as was her legacy of a sort. With a blink, the young woman had turned her golden-eyed gaze back to the expectant children. Soon the compartment held a moderately sized volumetric screen of entertainment. Anime, Cartoons. Fussing over them, Koyama had elected instead of letting them fight and argue over what to watch to take a vote.
It had worked, and those that were not under Thad's purview soon found themselves with candy in hand or in mouths. The woman had produced it as if by magic. A single piece each and it had gone fast. With a clap of delight, Koyama sat back with a pleased expression. Despite the harrowing experience, lives had been saved. Young lives. Her mind drifted briefly to what Aoba would say on the matter. A herd of children on a Star Army vessel. The man had seemed to be cut from a strict, rigid cloth with an unmovable expression and a no-nonsense attitude. If it came to it, she would defend the little ones on their behalf. After all, in her mind, the children were the real prize. If some of them had parents in the free colonies or even on Yamatai they would be reunited.
If orphaned, she knew of a man with connections. A kindly engineer with a brilliant mind and thoughtful demeanor. Her former CO and mentor, Kage, Yaichiro had helped form Tsubomi, the city with which orphans of the Empire resided. Cared for, tended to, educated. Where they could lead lives and grow in an environment fit for children. Making friends with light and laughter. If necessary she would make that call. And would be more than happy to pay for their care. She had spent little over the years.
Save for the little things she enjoyed. All else had been provided, and she had a home in Kyoto rent-free.
Having to tell their resident Ranger that she couldn't bring the bike was something she had not particularly relished. But then again it had seemed practical. The Resurgence wasn't equipped for someone such as her. She needed a fast, single-person vehicle. And doubted logistics would simply hand her one at her request. Koyama could put the request in herself. But then again, the Star Army lacked for anything tasteful, or relevant in the department of motorbikes. So, the Chui had made up her mind. She would finance it herself. She would build it herself. And offer it as a gift and reward. How could the Shosa argue with that? The Ranger had done her job and should be rewarded for it. It would cost the military nothing and the bike could be built along specifications suited for a ranger.
A three-pronged strike. And at the sound of the Nepleslian woman's music, she grimaced again. The bracelet with which she kept hidden linked with whatever Sanda was using for her entertainment and with a wave of Koyama's hand, visible to the woman with the thunderbolt tattoo it changed. A new song took place. From the same band but an earlier song by perhaps a few years. This one spoke of riding out of sunsets and screens. The guitar riffs were met with drums at the beginning and the guttural dialect of some Nepleslian ethnic groups. It started low and slow but seemed to gradually build. 'I'm dynamite! And I'll win the fight!' followed the steady beat and it seemed to descend again before rising like a tide once more. How in the hell did a seemingly straight-laced Nekovalkyrja know just what in the hell band it was? Not to mention pulling it off.
If she received a look, Koyama would return it, amused before looking back to the children as attentive as a mother hen. Her own mother had rubbed off on her too much for her own good. To Poppy, she asked a single question. This sent over the wireless communication engineered into both species. 'How are they?' it was clear to whom she meant. The wounded anthropomorphic soldier she had brought back aboard.
Koyama had seemed to soften as a small horde of children boarded their shuttle. It was a little cramped, their caretakers she'd taken in with a wary, scrutiny running their names and backgrounds through the various databases at her command. And even a few that were not. It paid to have friends in intelligence. Doubly so when one of them was in her weekly pen and paper roleplay game. But to the children, as her mind ticked over the information gathered and over their mission, she seemed all gentle smiles and patience. Warmth where aloof efficiency had been replaced by a seemingly different individual.
The XO had produced her data slate, Sanda had her music, Thad was being... Thad. The other Ranger she'd looked to with a curious eye. The cybernetic attached to her had made her raise one of her sharp eyebrows. Normally Nekovalkyrja proved unable to utilize cybernetics. Unless the woman was one of the 33 A variety she would have to look into this development. Or rather ask Poppy. The engineer dabbled in genetics on the side as was her legacy of a sort. With a blink, the young woman had turned her golden-eyed gaze back to the expectant children. Soon the compartment held a moderately sized volumetric screen of entertainment. Anime, Cartoons. Fussing over them, Koyama had elected instead of letting them fight and argue over what to watch to take a vote.
It had worked, and those that were not under Thad's purview soon found themselves with candy in hand or in mouths. The woman had produced it as if by magic. A single piece each and it had gone fast. With a clap of delight, Koyama sat back with a pleased expression. Despite the harrowing experience, lives had been saved. Young lives. Her mind drifted briefly to what Aoba would say on the matter. A herd of children on a Star Army vessel. The man had seemed to be cut from a strict, rigid cloth with an unmovable expression and a no-nonsense attitude. If it came to it, she would defend the little ones on their behalf. After all, in her mind, the children were the real prize. If some of them had parents in the free colonies or even on Yamatai they would be reunited.
If orphaned, she knew of a man with connections. A kindly engineer with a brilliant mind and thoughtful demeanor. Her former CO and mentor, Kage, Yaichiro had helped form Tsubomi, the city with which orphans of the Empire resided. Cared for, tended to, educated. Where they could lead lives and grow in an environment fit for children. Making friends with light and laughter. If necessary she would make that call. And would be more than happy to pay for their care. She had spent little over the years.
Save for the little things she enjoyed. All else had been provided, and she had a home in Kyoto rent-free.
Having to tell their resident Ranger that she couldn't bring the bike was something she had not particularly relished. But then again it had seemed practical. The Resurgence wasn't equipped for someone such as her. She needed a fast, single-person vehicle. And doubted logistics would simply hand her one at her request. Koyama could put the request in herself. But then again, the Star Army lacked for anything tasteful, or relevant in the department of motorbikes. So, the Chui had made up her mind. She would finance it herself. She would build it herself. And offer it as a gift and reward. How could the Shosa argue with that? The Ranger had done her job and should be rewarded for it. It would cost the military nothing and the bike could be built along specifications suited for a ranger.
A three-pronged strike. And at the sound of the Nepleslian woman's music, she grimaced again. The bracelet with which she kept hidden linked with whatever Sanda was using for her entertainment and with a wave of Koyama's hand, visible to the woman with the thunderbolt tattoo it changed. A new song took place. From the same band but an earlier song by perhaps a few years. This one spoke of riding out of sunsets and screens. The guitar riffs were met with drums at the beginning and the guttural dialect of some Nepleslian ethnic groups. It started low and slow but seemed to gradually build. 'I'm dynamite! And I'll win the fight!' followed the steady beat and it seemed to descend again before rising like a tide once more. How in the hell did a seemingly straight-laced Nekovalkyrja know just what in the hell band it was? Not to mention pulling it off.
If she received a look, Koyama would return it, amused before looking back to the children as attentive as a mother hen. Her own mother had rubbed off on her too much for her own good. To Poppy, she asked a single question. This sent over the wireless communication engineered into both species. 'How are they?' it was clear to whom she meant. The wounded anthropomorphic soldier she had brought back aboard.
