Re: Petty Squabble [ROUND 1] [Fort Ayers, New Atlantis]
08-02-2011, 12:16 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Agent1022.
COFCA Headquarters was settling into its continual state of uproar, the chaos spreading outside conversation and debate. The round black table was beginning its inexorable descent into paperwork burial; already its pristine obsidian surface was half covered in printouts and folders, and the remaining half was rapidly becoming stained with foodstuff and caffeine.Technicians jogged in and out of the conference room and the adjoining control room, bringing equipment from corners of the facility and jury-rigging monitors and speakers haphazardly across both. Assistants brought in memos, files and coffee, and brought out empty mugs and paper cups. The board members bickered and bantered, and behind them others discussed the unfolding battle before them.
“Who was that? And why was she clinging onto a flying mech?” Several technicians were crowded around a shakily wired LCD screen in a corner of the conference room, comparing the room’s video feeds with the incoming data stream.
“She looked familiar. Like…didn’t someone say something about Ashley? Or Ashley? Or something like that?”
“Wasn’t that the guy from Temps? Or wait, no, what dep is he again? He was all…‘no no, I said Ashley’. Something like that, yeah-”
Meanwhile, around the table tensions were rising. The façade of anonymity cracked in places as others leaned into the light to speak candidly.
“And why is Envoy listening to her? What is she, the robot whisperer?” Mauri O’Connor, nanotechnologist. As one of the most outspoken supporters for the total and complete reintegration of the only Uae metal samples into the construction of Envoy, its abduction had been particularly hard on her.
“No, I think that might be the other one. The goddess? If you’re looking for someone to go around gaining access to things…in any case, we should allow Envoy to complete its command.” Jonathon Wimblestaten, heir of the prestigious and affluent Wimblestaten family (heavily invested in Envoy’s left leg) pressed his own contact panel and watched as the votes for his motion were tallied.
Envoy’s arms moved with a dexterity that no earthly construction could emulate, placing Ashley gently on the roof of the RV while avoiding the ascending helicopter. Its cargo delivered, the secondary arms retreated, taking an aerodynamic, accessible position flat against Envoy’s sides.
“There, we’ve freed up those arms and hopefully gained a little goodwill-” What Wimblestaten intended to say was lost to time by the multitude of voices rising to argue, bicker, comment and defend.
“-should we do something about that helicopter? It’s climbing awfully fast and-”
“Who does she think she is anyway? Ordering our robot about like some army jock-”
“I don’t think it’s our responsibility to nursemaid everyone in danger that comes along-”
“-it’s awfully fast-”
“Has anyone seen my sandwich? I could swear I put it down only just now-”
“We don’t even know who this girl is-”
“-always barking orders, Envoy is not some kind of toy or botservant-”
“-and I haven’t eaten for bloody ages, so if anyone’s nicked my sandwich-”
There was a groan from the technicians’ corner as the badly rigged LCD screen blew out – though that sound was barely heard amidst the rooms’ noise. The group broke up, their conversations re-mingling with the din already present.
“-well, he was going on about Ashley – the contestant I mean, only he said it funny-”
“-what could we do? It’s not as if Envoy has any kind of anti-air capability-”
“The guy from Temps? Toast?”
“I think so-”
“Get out of the way perhaps? We could try and reduce our second derivative further-”
“Toast? You mean Kwan?”
“Aha! Yes, he was the one who dropped all that mysterious Ashley lark-”
“Decelerate faster? I thought we covered this!”
“The one in the cloak? God, I can’t stand that guy. Just because he has a cybernetic limb he thinks he can be all ineffable-”
“Or we could accelerate, oh no wait it’s level with the RV now. Who’s flying that? Does anyone-”
“Wait a second…his name is Kwan To-”
“HOLY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
“-was that John Smith? Did he just jump from the helicopter? Did he just jump from the goddamn helicopter?! And into the RV?!”
“Shit, he really is completely off his head isn’t he?”
“That’s it, I’m outta here – this is way insane for my taste-”
“-what do you mean, that’s an unusual name? Damn it, he was just there half a minute ago, he’s always vanishing places-”
“What about the heli? If John Smith just jumped out, is anyone piloting – CRAP obviously there is, really badly at that - who’s flying that bird? I thought it was going to crash into OH SHIT no it missed again-”
If – and this was a bit of a contested point – if the eyes on board the roof of the RV hadn’t lied to their respective owners, a man in a woven metal formal suit had leaped out of the helicopter that was until recently ascending alongside them, grabbed hold of the door of the RV, pulled it open and slid inside, and still had had the time to give them all an appraising glance in between.
Ashley knew her eyes were in better than working order, and <font color="navy">Ashley notwithstanding, so was her mind. In addition, she had the benefit of recognizing John Smith, while she ardently hoped the converse was untrue.
Inside their mind Ashley paced about, considering the situation.
I…don’t think so. He looks sharp, it’s not going to evade him forever. But he and the rest of the contestants only know me, not you.
D-did you see his eyes, darll? They were…they were all probey! All ‘I know your soul’-like! Like…like Sarge Heims! Exactly like Sarge Heims! Remember him and his “Information! Is the KEY! To any CONFLICT! You have to CONCENTRATE! And take in EVERYTHING around y-”
Ashley interrupted quickly – a mental image of the paranoid sergeant had begun to cloudily form in their mutual mind’s eye.
That…that’s in the past. Let it go. Concentrate on what’s going on around you.
Easy for you to say, darll. I’ve been looking at the inside of our mind for two plating years, and you expect me not to look in our mind’s eye once in a while? I haven’t had my body for a looooooong time…courtesy of who again?
Ashley sighed, and lay crosswise across one of the comfortable chairs, resting his neck on one armrest and his legs on the other. I didn’t have a choice, Ashley. You…you don’t understand. You’re unbelievably naïve for a girl your age – you think you can get away with anything, but you just…can’t! I’m my own person! I can’t sweep up after your faults all…the time…
He stopped, faltering.
I…
Well?
…it was for our own good. It was.
The comfortable chair vanished, dropping Ashley on the ground slightly harder than could be accounted for by imaginary gravity.
Agh! The hell?
You’re…plating unbelievable!
Crying, Ashley drew one of her knives and drove it into the RV’s roof in anger. None of the other soldiers saw her teardrops blow away on the rushing wind, and no one heard the sound of knife on steel over a baby’s cries…</font>
John Smith felt…discomfited. The baby was crying, punctuating the rapidly cooling atmosphere inside the RV, and the sound unnerved him somehow. He’d made a social faux pas – but one that he hadn’t planned on making, or expected would occur. Tactically, he now stood at an unanticipated disadvantage – and the crying – wouldn’t – stop.
Clarice left behind the long-gone merry-go-round and opened her eyes. With true maternal instinct, she was sitting up and moving the instant Baby Emma let out her first bawl. By the second cry, she was throwing open the door of the RV-
COFCA Headquarters was settling into its continual state of uproar, the chaos spreading outside conversation and debate. The round black table was beginning its inexorable descent into paperwork burial; already its pristine obsidian surface was half covered in printouts and folders, and the remaining half was rapidly becoming stained with foodstuff and caffeine.Technicians jogged in and out of the conference room and the adjoining control room, bringing equipment from corners of the facility and jury-rigging monitors and speakers haphazardly across both. Assistants brought in memos, files and coffee, and brought out empty mugs and paper cups. The board members bickered and bantered, and behind them others discussed the unfolding battle before them.
“Who was that? And why was she clinging onto a flying mech?” Several technicians were crowded around a shakily wired LCD screen in a corner of the conference room, comparing the room’s video feeds with the incoming data stream.
“She looked familiar. Like…didn’t someone say something about Ashley? Or Ashley? Or something like that?”
“Wasn’t that the guy from Temps? Or wait, no, what dep is he again? He was all…‘no no, I said Ashley’. Something like that, yeah-”
Meanwhile, around the table tensions were rising. The façade of anonymity cracked in places as others leaned into the light to speak candidly.
“And why is Envoy listening to her? What is she, the robot whisperer?” Mauri O’Connor, nanotechnologist. As one of the most outspoken supporters for the total and complete reintegration of the only Uae metal samples into the construction of Envoy, its abduction had been particularly hard on her.
“No, I think that might be the other one. The goddess? If you’re looking for someone to go around gaining access to things…in any case, we should allow Envoy to complete its command.” Jonathon Wimblestaten, heir of the prestigious and affluent Wimblestaten family (heavily invested in Envoy’s left leg) pressed his own contact panel and watched as the votes for his motion were tallied.
Envoy’s arms moved with a dexterity that no earthly construction could emulate, placing Ashley gently on the roof of the RV while avoiding the ascending helicopter. Its cargo delivered, the secondary arms retreated, taking an aerodynamic, accessible position flat against Envoy’s sides.
“There, we’ve freed up those arms and hopefully gained a little goodwill-” What Wimblestaten intended to say was lost to time by the multitude of voices rising to argue, bicker, comment and defend.
“-should we do something about that helicopter? It’s climbing awfully fast and-”
“Who does she think she is anyway? Ordering our robot about like some army jock-”
“I don’t think it’s our responsibility to nursemaid everyone in danger that comes along-”
“-it’s awfully fast-”
“Has anyone seen my sandwich? I could swear I put it down only just now-”
“We don’t even know who this girl is-”
“-always barking orders, Envoy is not some kind of toy or botservant-”
“-and I haven’t eaten for bloody ages, so if anyone’s nicked my sandwich-”
There was a groan from the technicians’ corner as the badly rigged LCD screen blew out – though that sound was barely heard amidst the rooms’ noise. The group broke up, their conversations re-mingling with the din already present.
“-well, he was going on about Ashley – the contestant I mean, only he said it funny-”
“-what could we do? It’s not as if Envoy has any kind of anti-air capability-”
“The guy from Temps? Toast?”
“I think so-”
“Get out of the way perhaps? We could try and reduce our second derivative further-”
“Toast? You mean Kwan?”
“Aha! Yes, he was the one who dropped all that mysterious Ashley lark-”
“Decelerate faster? I thought we covered this!”
“The one in the cloak? God, I can’t stand that guy. Just because he has a cybernetic limb he thinks he can be all ineffable-”
“Or we could accelerate, oh no wait it’s level with the RV now. Who’s flying that? Does anyone-”
“Wait a second…his name is Kwan To-”
“HOLY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
“-was that John Smith? Did he just jump from the helicopter? Did he just jump from the goddamn helicopter?! And into the RV?!”
“Shit, he really is completely off his head isn’t he?”
“That’s it, I’m outta here – this is way insane for my taste-”
“-what do you mean, that’s an unusual name? Damn it, he was just there half a minute ago, he’s always vanishing places-”
“What about the heli? If John Smith just jumped out, is anyone piloting – CRAP obviously there is, really badly at that - who’s flying that bird? I thought it was going to crash into OH SHIT no it missed again-”
If – and this was a bit of a contested point – if the eyes on board the roof of the RV hadn’t lied to their respective owners, a man in a woven metal formal suit had leaped out of the helicopter that was until recently ascending alongside them, grabbed hold of the door of the RV, pulled it open and slid inside, and still had had the time to give them all an appraising glance in between.
Ashley knew her eyes were in better than working order, and <font color="navy">Ashley notwithstanding, so was her mind. In addition, she had the benefit of recognizing John Smith, while she ardently hoped the converse was untrue.
Inside their mind Ashley paced about, considering the situation.
I…don’t think so. He looks sharp, it’s not going to evade him forever. But he and the rest of the contestants only know me, not you.
D-did you see his eyes, darll? They were…they were all probey! All ‘I know your soul’-like! Like…like Sarge Heims! Exactly like Sarge Heims! Remember him and his “Information! Is the KEY! To any CONFLICT! You have to CONCENTRATE! And take in EVERYTHING around y-”
Ashley interrupted quickly – a mental image of the paranoid sergeant had begun to cloudily form in their mutual mind’s eye.
That…that’s in the past. Let it go. Concentrate on what’s going on around you.
Easy for you to say, darll. I’ve been looking at the inside of our mind for two plating years, and you expect me not to look in our mind’s eye once in a while? I haven’t had my body for a looooooong time…courtesy of who again?
Ashley sighed, and lay crosswise across one of the comfortable chairs, resting his neck on one armrest and his legs on the other. I didn’t have a choice, Ashley. You…you don’t understand. You’re unbelievably naïve for a girl your age – you think you can get away with anything, but you just…can’t! I’m my own person! I can’t sweep up after your faults all…the time…
He stopped, faltering.
I…
Well?
…it was for our own good. It was.
The comfortable chair vanished, dropping Ashley on the ground slightly harder than could be accounted for by imaginary gravity.
Agh! The hell?
You’re…plating unbelievable!
Crying, Ashley drew one of her knives and drove it into the RV’s roof in anger. None of the other soldiers saw her teardrops blow away on the rushing wind, and no one heard the sound of knife on steel over a baby’s cries…</font>
John Smith felt…discomfited. The baby was crying, punctuating the rapidly cooling atmosphere inside the RV, and the sound unnerved him somehow. He’d made a social faux pas – but one that he hadn’t planned on making, or expected would occur. Tactically, he now stood at an unanticipated disadvantage – and the crying – wouldn’t – stop.
Clarice left behind the long-gone merry-go-round and opened her eyes. With true maternal instinct, she was sitting up and moving the instant Baby Emma let out her first bawl. By the second cry, she was throwing open the door of the RV-
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