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What God Farted Over Here?

"Of course, sir." Spark's voice was quiet, humorless. Dry and bitter cold as Armora as she remembered and rubbed at her chest. Right where it hurt to remember and the small mass of ID tags seemed to leave a dent in her armor. "If there's anything I can do to make things easier, I'll do my best within the limits of my post. Just let me know, okay? I know I'm not the best of your sisters. You know, Kor approached me once. Right after Rorik died. She had her moments of kindness. I know you weren't the only one to see it, and I miss her, too. I'll be here if you need anything. Just don't end up like I did with Rorik."
 
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“I appreciate that Setsuya. I do. But this is a conversation best not had on the bridge of a starship. We can talk later in my quarters once things have settled down.” Michael responded as he stood up. “XO, you have the bridge.” Michael commanded again as he turned and made his way out, presumably with Setsuya following. “I have to make myself presentable. I’ll be donning my old uniform. Lucky you. I still fill it out quite well.” Michael continued with a teasing smirk directed directly at her. “This is where I stop off. Give me five minutes to change and I’ll be back with you.” He said once they’d arrived outside his quarters.

Judging by the brief glimpse she was allowed to see of the interior… his room was actually almost identical to the normal, lowly crew member rather than a lavish quarters. Aside from of course the stateroom where he had made it into a glorified office to conduct business.

It took him exactly four minutes thirty seven seconds to get changed. Some military habits died hard it would seem. However, when he returned his uniform was as crisply pressed as any her holographical clothing might have been capable of doing. A pair of spit shined black quarter shoes and blue slacks adorned his lower half combined with a black belt which yielded a golden buckle; perfectly centered as if he’d been born to do this. Underneath the slim black jacket wasa white buttoned up shirt, a black tie and eventually Michael himself under there.

The jacket however, had much more significance. Upon his chest was a typical nametag rather than any special computerized version. ‘Oliver’. His rank on his shoulders read Sergeant, were she familiar with UCS ranking systems, and his chest was adorned with over a dozen ribbons and a few medals. But if anyone asked Michael the highest award he had received was the sky blue cord of the infantry which was tied around his right shoulder which ran underneath his arm and connected just above the UCS flag which he had carried into battle so long ago. The white hat of the uniform was perched underneath his arm and…

Damn he looked fucking sexy in those clothes.

“Ready to go?” Michael asked her as he sent a reply to the text message indicating that he was ready to meet them, describing the uniform and his appearance so they could identify him from a distance, as well as requesting the location to meet them in.
 
"Thank you, sis.......and who knows, maybe it will get easier in time. For now, I can only gather my thoughts, and try to pick up the pieces....for the second time in my life. It's funny, because I swear the universe loves torturing me, but I still thank it for the joys it's graced me with." Mark replied as the rustling of clothes changing was taking place inside. A few minutes later, the door slid open to reveal Mark in a very elegant dress uniform. White military dress slacks, white gloves, and military dress coat over a undershirt, and complete with a black pair of dress shoes. A silver cord ran from his shoulder to under his arm, no cap present, but he had his katana fastened via a ceremonial red cord at his waist. The black and red of it was a stark contrast to the uniform, the ornate black wing pinioned hand guard resting against his side softly as a hand gently rested atop the pommel. "You should hurry, the meeting shall be soon, and I want you dressed appropriately minus a color guard this time please."


The neko nodded, "I sadly did not pack any dress garments, well any that would be appropriate anyways, for such an occasion. So, standard is the uniform today heh."

A message was sent back that emissary Oaklen would lead them there after landing at the starport in Obsidian City. Ground transport would be waiting for them upon arrival to bring them to the council building in the government sector of the city.
 
"It's in the duffel on the bed. You stay in the room and I'll change. I'm gonna wear the rev undersuit," Spark nodded, directing Mark back inside. "Guard's guidance."

Spark's own dress uniform was a stark contrast to Mark's. the skirt worn by her contemporaries traded for a pair of men's slacks, with a red pinstripe down the trouser leg. A white blouse just barely showed the neckline of her undersuit beneath, and a pair of modest low top dress shoes slipped over the shimmering carbon weave.

She knew she would soon need to be refitted for her pants and blouse, but her jacket was still comfortably loose, and slimming to her musculature. On the right shoulder was her rank, and down the right breast she wore the various awards and distinguishing schools she had attended. Left, was the awards of teams she had served in the past, a sort of mission record. her qualifying badge flickered as it rotated through the various weapons she was trained to use and the short blue tassel still hung proudly on her left hip. Carefully, her hands shaped the dress uniform's cap, and she checked herself in the mirror, her discarded armor laid out on the bed.

"I'm all straight, right?"
 
It wasn’t long before Michael was stepping into the belly of a shuttle. His own birds were far from diplomatic. After all, a bounty hunter had very minimal need if any needs to pose as a diplomat. His starship came loaded with heavy armor relative to its size, a gun in each door, a pair of rocket pods attached to the wings and finally a chin mounted thirty millimeter P.E.P. gun attached to the chin. Boarding with him were presumably Setsuya, Oaklen and Spark as well as almost a dozen Marines and nearby two other transports loaded themselves with Marines for a security detail. “A shame. I’m sure you’d look handsome.” Michael responded to Setsuya as the shuttle doors closed and sealed them inside. Michael, like the Marines, did not take seats within the transport and instead grabbed hold of the hand rails above their heads.

“Good evening, Captain. Going to make friends with the locals again?” Serenity chimed in over the shuttle’s speakers as she transmitted from point A to B. Everyone could hear her… and likewise they could speak back to her if they decided to do so.

“At the moment, yes. Why?” Michael asked in response as the shuttle vaulted the distance to the end of the bay and launched towards the planet beneath.

“Excellent news, Captain. And more excellent news to follow. The NDC have agreed to assist us in fixing our ships. Just in time as well since the coffee machine in the stateroom has broken and I know how cranky you can get late at night when you haven’t had a cup of coffee and are attempting to navigate the complexities of ship finances.”

“…” Michael was silent for a moment. “There’s no night in space, Serenity.” Was all that he could think to say. And while Michael was distracted with coming up with something to say back to her Serenity was simultaneously trying to speak to many other people across the fleet, NDC and many other channels.

"Of course, the locals wouldn't know that about you." Serenity responded. Oddly enough it seemed almost directed at Setsuya rather than Michael. That was more than a little odd. Something was up with Serenity and it had started when Setsuya began to translate galactic common.

"Serenity, contact me on a private channel please?" Michael commanded her. To his dismay, however, there wasn't a response. "Serenity?" he called again; still with no response as the AI went away and pouted. "... I think she's a bit jealous." he whispered to Setsuya as the shuttle dropped lower and lower still. They wouldn't hear from Serenity again; not for a while.
 
"Yes well, I'm albeit flattered she thinks of me as that close, but sadly not the reality. Though I guess that was an important personal fact to know? Our MEGAMIs do not have that capacity of emotional expression as your AI, so I find it odd personally." Setsuya stated from her standing position, having as a soldier naturally chosen the position over a chair. A eyebrow was raised at the behavior displayed, and her antics in response to her emotions. Serenity was a very peculiar entity to the cat girl, and had a paranoid feeling she would need to watch her for a while. "Also, are you sure you brought enough troops?" she added more then a bit sarcastically.

"Seems obvious enough to me, that Serenity likes the captain. You seem to be a popular man Michael." Mark piped up from his seat with a chuckle, "Also, welcome to the NDC's capital, Obsidian City. You're about to enter a society that is almost as diverse as the Kikyo sector. Please have your men on their best behavior as not to scare our citizens please. So many personnel will require a security escort, I hope you understand."
 
“I’m not sure what a MEGAMI is.” Michael stated as the shuttle touched down on the atmosphere and descended rapidly. “Serenity is a rather old artificial intelligence by our standards. Nearly fifty. The problem with our AI is that they tend to be… well, the short version is that they tend to start out with very little personality and develop it over the course of their lifespans. Normally Serenity would have been decommissioned by now but technically she’s private property… sort of. Our laws are a bit hazy on that.” He began before looking about. Clearly, more explanation was going to be needed.



“UCS law states that an artificial intelligence has equal rights to that of a human being. That wasn’t always the case though since at first we didn’t believe them capable of this line of thinking. Serenity was born in that era. So back then, she was considered an object. A thing. A product to be made, disposed of and replaced.” He explained as the shuttle rocked very gently with the swaying of winds. “However she managed to skip decommissioning though not on her own volition. She was captured by a rival nation back home and we spent the greater half of a decade trying to find her. The rescue teams are used to dealing with people but… a computer is a bit different and to many of our people it still is at least an alien concept.”



“I suppose the greatest challenge is knowing how to comfort people when they’ve been through an ordeal of being a prisoner of war for decades but it’s even worse with an artificial intelligence. Humans, for example, have body language that we can read and study and make judgements on what to do next. A machine like Serenity? She doesn’t have body language. She can mask inflection in her voice to sound completely happy at all times. It’s before my time but I’d venture to say that Serenity probably dealt with those demons for years before she finally opened up and even then only just.” He explained as the craft lowered significantly. “Normally when we met another species, after she came into my domain, she’d do the translations. She’d do the advisement and she’d be the one that ran the logistics and made friends with everyone while I did the leg work of combat and the more… hands-on sort of things. I suppose now that you’re here, filling many of those roles, I would venture that she feels as though she may no longer be necessary and feels I may replace her.” He suggested as the shuttle touched down on the landing pad.



The fighters broke off and Michael seemed to ignore the sarcasm about the Marines. There were, across the shuttles that had landed, about thirty of them; enough to take a building if they needed to hold out until reinforcements arrived just in case things went south. “I understand the escort but the majority of the Marines will actually be staying behind to guard the shuttles. I doubt anyone here would want to take them but… civilians have a funny knack for not always seeing eye to eye with the governments. Some might not be so keen on our presence.” He spoke to Mark, ignoring the comment about Serenity. It seemed to be a sore topic… or maybe Michael still hadn’t come to terms with exactly how he felt about the situation.



Nevertheless, it seemed like he was intent on going into the belly of the proverbial beast alone. “Walk the streets and keep an eye out for trouble.” He told the small handful of Marines that were supposed to be guarding him. “If you see something blatantly wrong, such as assault or the like, intervene but remember; we’re guests here. Don’t overstep the boundary between helping and controlling.”



Their orders were simple enough; a typical patrol of an unknown area. It would help them later on in case they ever needed to fight here; defensively or otherwise. A map was worth a thousand bullets. A kind face that lived here was worth countless. Still, there wasn’t much that eight Marines could do spread over the city and largely cut off from one another. If things went south, Michael had just sentenced them to death. But then again… a hearts and minds mission was ultimately what they needed, was it not?
 
Spark leaned her head to one side, triggering the comm relay she had grown so accostumed to. "Echo-Seven-India Pine signing on the net. All patrolls be advised that there are eight power armor troopers currently roaming the city with presumably friendly intent. If anybody wants to buy a few donuts and show them the little hole in the wall donut stops, feel free. Otherwise, keep 'em out of trouble without letting them know you did anything. Bravo-One-India Harris, it's your platoon on patrol this week, right? Think of them as on duty soldiers playing tourist. They're not here for trouble, but they're still in Power Armor."
 
Starport
Chlorate was standing in the starport, waiting for Mark. The android looked down at its foot and started tapping it, hearing it make a clinking sound on the floor. She was still very much sad from Koroleva's death, which had made her antsy and worried something would happen to Mark too. [Father? Are you there? How proximal are you to my current location?] she sent to his Geist. She thought simply asking the question would make her feel better, but mere milliseconds after sending the message, she was already nervous. Every passing microscopic unit of time before a response was whispering to the gynoid, suggesting to her that something bad had happened. She rapidly looked at the vehicles and other people, but it didn't alleviate the problem. Even the machines at the starport had nothing to say for the mechanical princess, they didn't have the reply from her father that she was waiting for.
 
"I guess that's true, though I can't say I have an experience with that sort of thing." Setsuya answered, thinking as she looked up to the audio speaker, "I'm sorry if I've offended her, or seem to have become an obstacle. I can talk to her later if allowed, as I wish to be her friend, and not her enemy."

As they landed and disembarked, she decided to drift slightly with a frown, feeling bad for having seemingly hurt Serenity's feelings. It was clear that it was bothering her at least a little bit, and would be pretty clear as to why she drifted.

Mark only gave a shrug of a nod, conceding the humor of the situation over to the captain. Rising from seat, he waved Spark to follow, "Come Corporal, my daughter is waiting for us." He received the message as they touched down, making his disembarking quick, and heading straight for the gynoid girl. "Almost close enough to hug you honey. Come, let me do so. I'm alright, just been talking with these people to establish a meeting with the lord. How are you holding up sweetie?"
 
“I think she knows that intellectually. Emotions aren’t… that new to Serenity but she isn’t like you or me. She hasn’t had decades of experience to come to terms with them like we have.” Michael responded to Setsuya as the shuttle touched down and the doors opened.

The Marines immediately fanned out like they were trained to though this time the weapons were still kept low rather than aimed at anything. Michael reached out and placed a hand on Setsuya’s shoulder as she floated. Nevertheless he removed his hand after giving her shoulder an affectionate but professional squeeze. That is to say; the friendly kind. “Don’t think on it too hard. And you don’t have to ask my permission to speak with anyone; Serenity included. Our society isn’t… bureaucratic? If I wanted to I could walk right into our Senate and start talking about the latest game of basketball after a thorough security check of course. Assuming they were willing to talk to me that is. We’re not barbarians either.” Michael assured her as he walked past her.

He looked back over his shoulder and made sure to look between Mr. Oaklen and Spark. “You look nice.” He stated; leaving it up to them to guess whom he actually meant. Truth be told, they both did. Then again Michael supposed that was how people were supposed to look when they were meeting with someone of importance.

“Mr. Oaklen. You never did inform me what your position was with your people. I’d gander you’re someone important given the nature of the mission here but exactly how important are you?” Michael asked as he expected a line about being a diplomat or a local leader of some kind. A Lord? Nah. He didn’t expect that at all! Or did he…? No. He didn’t. The concept of feudal societies had all but vanished underneath the banner of the UCS for many reasons.

“Also, Mrs. Pine. I saw you eyeing those VR trainers back when you first got onto my ship. If you’d like, since it’s my ship and I’ll be damned if anyone but God himself tells me how to run it, I can get you set up to jump into one. Although I must forewarn you that your equipment will take considerable time to code into the system and thus won’t be available in our training simulators for quite some time.” He ventured as he walked towards the embassy.

Meanwhile? Those UCS soldiers were out shaking babies, kissing hands and eating the best local prostitutes while they rented out the local pork. Wait, that wasn’t exactly right. They were kissing babies, shaking hands, eating the best local pork and renting prostitutes.

Their fighter pilots in particular seemed… rowdy. They were clearly professionally trained but professionalism seemed a bit lacking. They pointedly probed the network of where they were allowed to go and where they were not allowed to go; continually testing it to see just what they could get away with up to and including buzzing the embassy at supersonic speeds if they could get away with it. It was as if someone had taken a bunch of western cowboys from the days of old, stuck them inside a high end technological masterpiece of a jet and told them to have a field day at the controls. Needless to say, however, they were definitely some of the best pilots available. The time that they didn’t spend working on their drill and ceremony were spent with grueling hours upon hours in a flight simulation or even behind the controls of a real jet. If they were allowed, they’d have easily been flying supersonic speeds below the building level of cities… and having all the more fun for it.
 
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"Roger that, sir. Can't wait to see Angela again. You want me to call Whisper to relieve me?" Spark sat up, moving towards the door. A sneaky few movements of her fingers let her text Angela that she was home and that they were disembarking at the star port. She even gave the redheaded beauty the pad number.

Turning back to Michael, she gave a sweet smile, replying that "I would thank you for the opportunity, sir. But for now, I'm home. And if my girlfriend's willing to see see me, I have a violet eyed redhead farm girl to kiss and eat out of house and home."
 
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Chlorate misinterpreted Mark's question and looked over her body before reporting "I do not detect any damage or missing screws, scans indicate my body is still holding together as normal." The metal girl picked up her feet and loudly clanked to Mark, giving him a hard hug. Her inner machinery's whirring was audible, but it grew quieter as if calming down.
 
As if on cue, Spark would get the call from the packing southern bell that was her new girlfriend, a little country tune playing from her phone to signal the communications.

Mark hugged his gynoid daughter back, having missed his only immediate family left other then the obvious fenrir clones. "I meant have you been doing okay while I've been away. I missed you honey." he said before turning to Michael, "To be honest, everyone else knows, I didn't want to spoil. Would have ruined the surprise." He gave a chuckle, then bowed with a small hand gesture to Setsuya who was still by Michael's side.

"Well, uh this is Mark Oaklen......he one of the two lords that rule the NDC. He controls the navy, his brother Jack Pine controls the army. Granted they can control either as needed." the neko answered as the security escort arrived, lead by a rather tan man in combat armor.

"Lord Oaklen, Delta reporting in for escort operation." Mark Tazar said with a salute before turning to the others, "Warrant Officer Mark Tazar of SSAF 1st division."
 
"Warrant Officer Tazar, I satand relieved of my duty as Lord Oaklen's guard. I apologize for the rushed formality. My lady calls." Spark gave a crisp salute, sneakily touching her headset on the way up to switch to the call.

The instant of her dismissal left her hopping lightly iff the side of the shuttle's exit ramp to talk to Angela. Finding out that Angela was at home, Spark simply disappeared, her form melting intonthe shadows as the sham shield of the highest rank of junior enlisted activated, and she took a short cut to the parking lot through the tunnels commonly used by the Tsumi when they got bored enough to work the port. It didn't take long to find her vehicle and keep chatting until she had reached the building on Seraph street.
 
“I’m probably not as surprised as I should be though I can say it seems a bit odd to send such an important person on a ship like mine for a diplomatic mission.” Michael responded. If he was impressed, he wasn’t showing it very well. “I hope my ship is up to your standards. She’s an older boat but she does just fine in a fight, hauling cargo or protecting beautiful girls with cat ears.” He added, seemingly oblivious to what he’d just implied. “I’m not much one for talk. I do hope this… diplomacy thing… goes smoothly but I can’t say that I have much to say.” he said, completely ignoring any sort of social graces and completely glossing over what he'd said.
 
Nova took a few deep breaths as she crossed the space station. Normally she'd be interested in seeing the new UCS ships and their specs, but that wasn't what she was here to do. No, she was here to help someone. Or at least do her best. Moving quickly she made her way to where her new CO was meeting up with Lord Oaklen. Once she got there she paused for a moment on the far end of the hall, observing. Her eyes scanned the crowd for the man in her dossier. Spotting him she moved in closer, trying to see any outward signs of damage to his suit or his body. Most likely she'd need to do a more thorough look later, but you never know. Stepping up to him she held out her hand and said, "Nova Decus. I've been assigned to your squad. It's nice to meet you."
 
"Oh..." The gynoid said. "I am fine." She didn't sound fine, she was clearly still sad about her mother. She wasn't even able to cry about it because she didn't have upgrades for making tears unlike her clone. She grasped Mark's organic hand tightly, gazing at the floor. The robot wished she could cry about it without causing her eyes to spark, she never got the chance to cry about her own mother.
 
Mark Oaklen gave his daughter a sympathetic look, knowing all too well the smiles they were occasionally capable of faking were just for show. His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand he held to comfort her, ignoring Michael for a moment longer to say something to her, "I know, I miss her too. That's why you and I are going with these people for a bit. To get away for a while, just you and me. We'll pull through this...eventually." With that said he gave her another hug before turning to Michael.

"It's not a worry captain, I wasn't born a royal, or much of anything. Me and my daughter are coming with you to learn of your people, and to partly get some time away from home. We've recently suffered the loss of my wife Koroleva who was murdered two months ago. As you might imagine, it hasn't been easy, but I hope you won't mind putting up with us for a short time." he said earnestly with a nod, before giving Tazar a wayward salute as the wind blew over the pad.

Even here, on the other side of the city wall built of starship armor, the oceanic breeze and smell could be felt and smelled. Obsidian city with it's straight edge styled buildings, built from starships much like the wall, were surprisingly cleanly built. One would not suspect the origin of their materials, unless one really scrutinized the individual parts. Despite the UCS presence, life went on as usual, the people used to seeing foreigners about. Various species and cultures could be seen within them, mingled about and blended to make the NDC populace. Humanoid drones could be seen patrolling about, answering questions and overseeing to the people's security, no weapons visible on them. One such ACE unit approached the collective group, ["Greetings, Lord Pine requests your attendance at the council hall. Lord Oaklen, transportation has been arranged and will arrive shortly at the terminal building. Warrant Officer Tazar, please ensure they reach the council safely and smoothly, as ordered by General Casdan. Message dispensed and confirmed, please, have a nice day."]

With that, the machine simply strolled away, and back to it's previous patrol among the travelers of the port. Mark Tazar shook his head at the thing, having felt too much like one of the drones in the past, "Welcome to Delta squad trooper Decus. As a civilian I expect you to stay in the center of the formation and keep your head down. We have a job to do and I have to keep you from getting killed. So follow in if you would please Miss Decus, we have VIPs to escort." The Warrant officer waved for the group to follow before leading them to the awaiting trucks.

The trip of the city was much the same, people going about living their lives, except there were signs of battle. Every so often a area would be passed that had scorch marks where something had molten by the chunks of melted metal present. They went around the park, there slagged metal figures were being cleaned up, Mark Oaklen making an effort to not look in the direction of the scene. Even from down the street, further down a hospital showed signs of being a warzone, the front entrance charred and riddled with impacts. The pocked exterior showed signs of taking heavy fire from high caliber rounds, and light explosive ordinance. The front was corded off, but it was still in operation, vehicles still bringing patients in.

This was passed as they followed the road to a large three story structure with a large domed top and columns in the front. The squad lead the group in and waited in the atrium as the others entered the council hall where they deliberated for over an hour. With an alliance arranged, trade, and support arranged. The large oaken doors opened again to allow the diplomatic group to return to the atrium where the squad still waited.
 
"Trade will make our nations strong. I appreciate the acceptance of this treaty on behalf of the UCS Senators." Michael closed the debate. "However it has come to my attention that an infestation occurs within one of your facilities. I would like to have the permission to eradicate this infestation. I believe it would provide a healthy method of not only strengthening our alliance but also showing the NDC that the UCS Marines are capable soldiers. My men stand ready and willing to go and engage the infestation at the drop of a hat."
 
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