7 replies to this topic

[Viscoun]

 

Entry 0

 

[Time: 2505]

 

Anterian Command, Anteria, Triumvirate

 

Sentus took a sip of his coffee and stared out into the giant morass of reddish-white vapor outside the window. Past the lip of Anteria's base floor jutting out from below the command center, it was nothing but white, white, and more white. In the dying 25th hour of the day, on a planet where days were measured in 46-hour intervals, the star XZ was casting a mandarin-red hue over the cloudy planet of XZ-5, the 5th member of this backdrop system situated at the rim of the galaxy's Sagittarius Arm. The Sagittarius Trade Federation's namesake.

 

As one of the chief communications officers of Triumvirate's Anterian Command, it was understandable that following the abrupt departure of Port Flight ten years ago, there would be little to no communication worth doing on the floating city, aside from a couple of defensive missions mounted by the Valkyrie Protectorate, and the occasional update from the rest of the Federation. Though given that shrike activity surged to newer heights every day, it was almost entirely possible that one day, there wouldn't be any Valkyries left to talk to, like there usually was whilst they were out doing their thing.

 

Sentus could feel his eyes drooping. Almost time for shift to end. His brain never failed him - when it was time to sleep, it was time to sleep. He pushed himself off his chair, and, taking one final glance at the clock, made ready to leave.

 

"Beep."

 

"Hm?" Sentus turned to the dashboard. A beacon was hailing the command center.

 

"Hail incoming. Console: type?" he asked the computer.

 

"Distress," the computer glibly replied.

 

Was a Valkyrie stuck somewhere? Had someone flown too far, and been caught by the shrikes?

 

Sentus could feel eyes on him. The beacon was attracting the attention of the other officers in the room. Little wonder - they hadn't had anything big to do since the last major shrike offensive several months ago.

 

"Are there any ongoing missions right now?" he asked the others behind him.

 

"Not that I know of," someone said. "Patrols start at 2800, so the Valks should be on standby."

 

"Weird." Sentus bit his lips. "Maybe someone's going on a Valkyrie joyride. There'll be hell to pay for that." Laughs echoed around the room. "Console: designation?"

 

"Command," came the reply.

 

Alright, this was getting serious. The silence from behind Sentus was evidence enough of that. Only a handful of people had the "command" label attached to them, and they were either at least lieutenants or people of nobility from other allied planets. Since they didn't host any nobles on Triumvirate, the beacon was coming from one of their own.

 

"Console: locate," Sentus ordered. He turned to the other officers. "Get us a lieutenant in here. Someone ranked. A ranking Valkyrie pilot might be in trouble." He heard feet scuffling around the room, and the door slamming shut.

 

"Computing," the computer announced. "Core designation: Headquarters. Location: 54392-E, 38920-N, 38-A."

 

Sentus paused. Currently, only the Anterian command center itself had that designation. And they weren't exactly in any trouble. So what was…

 

"Those coords match ours, but the altitude is slightly off," another voice noted. "We're on altitude 102-A. So the beacon's coming from pretty much right below us."

 

"Maybe an automated hail from a dead Valkyrie." Sentus shook his head. "But that can't be. It's labeled as "headquarters"."

 

Then a thought struck him. No way… it couldn't be. But what if…?

 

"Console: ping beacon."

 

"Pinging." A pause. "54392-E, 38920-N, 39-A."

 

"Console, ping beacon," Sentus repeated.

 

"Pinging. 54392-E, 38920-N, 40-A."

 

"Whatever it is, it's coming up pretty quick." Sentus turned to the others again. "Mobilize a squad of Valks, and open up the lookout stands under Anteria. We don't have time to waste - we'll have to meet this thing head-on."

 

 

 

OOC:

Spoiler

An unknown entity with an inexplicable designation is making its way up through the clouds. Flip a coin. Heads are the squad stationed in Anteria. Tails are the squad stationed in Tenth Point. One of these squads will be mobilized first.

 

Write about preparing to head out. Meet and greet, and await instructions.

Edited by Viscoun, 08 February 2015 - 03:53 AM.

[Officer Judy Hopps]

Lieutenant Colonel Isabel Mendoza

 

(10th Point)

 

"Reaper 01"

 

The Belly of the Beast

 

Silence was all that filled her war-torn mind at first. In her dreams, in her heart, and in her very core there was little more thought as to whatever conflict lied upon the road ahead. Her morning started early, earlier than what most would deem a feasibly waking hour. At the crack of dawn's light, she was running. Silence. Utter, beautiful, tranquil silence whose sanctity was interrupted by the hastened pace of her footsteps. For hours she ran, traversing both concrete and dusty dirt trail alike before the first groups of soldiers finally woke and went about their morning physical training.

 

They ran in packs, and she always ran alone.

 

"On your left." Was the only phrase she would state that morning, as the groups of enlisted made way for the light-footed Lieutenant Colonel. Light feet that she wasn't necessarily born with the ability to possess. In an hour and a half, thirty miles were cleared by the super-soldier before finally returning to her dormitory, slinking into the showers, and preparing for the remainder of the day. Hefting a sidearm and snapping it to her outer-left thigh as a final touch, Isabel casually strode her way into the hangar.

 

Halfway there, she received a shrill series of beeps in her ear, and a slight touch to it caused a thin, transparent screen to open before her as she still made her way. It was a Colonel, one of grade higher than her own, so naturally she paused for the moment as he addressed her.

 

"Colonel." He addressed her grimly at first, not bothering with the first prefix of her rank. "Report to deck immediately and launch. We're going to need you in the sky today. A storm is approaching. See you at Lima Zulu Zero One." Nodding, and leaving nothing else to his doubt other than a solemn "Yes sir.", Isabel's pace hastened as she unfastened the sidearm and held it tightly in her grasp as she broke into a sprint towards the Hangar.

 

Breaking through the door, she was greeted with the sight of scrambling pilots and technicians. Instantly unfastening the frontal buttons of her more formal uniform, the sight beneath would have been a pleasant view for many, if it weren't for the ensuing madness of a scrambling squadron. Beneath her usual uniform, as it came flying off was a skintight bodysuit, padded and wired in specific areas for her, small, dangerous, and infamous suit.

 

There, at the far corner of the Hangar was her smaller compartment.

 

Within it, a slew of technicians stood in wait, before surging forward to greet her as she unwound the tight bun of her hair and let it cascade down her shoulders.

 

"Ammunition, and standard weaponry ready?"

 

"Yes ma'am, launch in thirty seconds!"

 

Turning about, Isabel slowly leaned back and gracefully fell into her small Valkyrie. The lines and edges closing smoothly and sealing for even external atmospheric flight as within it she opened her eyes, and with her gaze coming to be, a Heads Up Display, or HUD, flickered to life. Diagnostics ran their necessary checks, and her fingertips flexed almost impatiently with these sequence of events. Looking over her shoulder and checking flaps and stabs of her flight stabilization, and finally the thrusters on her feet, she looked to the technicians.

 

"All is green across the board. Catapult in ten seconds."

 

Behind her, a clock began counting down as the technicians bundled up her personal items from her uniform and bound out of the room. Once the clock hit zero, there was a sudden surge of force as she was launched straight upward and into the sky. There, as she arced through the air for a second, the slim intakes of her Valkyrie inhaled the oxygen necessary for them to function and kicked on. With a roar that caused the foundations of the hangar to rattle, the Reaper Suit was the first to depart.

 

Not breaking the speed of sound as to not cause the glass all over the base to shatter, she smoothly cruised a few hairs beneath the sonic barrier and landed first on the hangar. Her suit was small enough even for her to walk into the briefing room where other pilots were likely waiting. With a flicker, the reflective surface of her silver visor dimmed to reveal two beautifully precise eyes. They affixed upon the Officer In Charge (OIC) as a murmur passed through the crowd.

 

If the last Reaper was involved, the situation was likely to be dire.

 

"Sir. What's the situation?"

Edited by The Hawk's Eye, 08 February 2015 - 06:42 AM.

[JumpinJR]

Staff Sergeant o’Connor
Pilot Aleph Prototype

10th Point

I was running threw a tunnel.  Grey rock surrounded me, it was cold and damp.  I was filled with regret and I had no idea why.  I was running, I didn’t know where or why, just running, that’s all there was.  It was an odd comfort I realized, running, existing only to run.  It somehow made me... complete...  It took me a moment to realize that was wrong.  I hate being complete.  Means there’s nothing more.  I stopped running and turned around, I regretted it instantly.  There behind me there was something, obscured from the lights of the tunnel.  I felt fear in my gut.  

I woke up kicking the desk my feet were resting.  Fell out of my chair in a heroic fashion.

Taking a moment to breathe and steady my heart rate.  I was in my personal quarters.  Normally I someone my rank would bunk with several other soldiers and pilots, but given the fact I’m a guinea pig, I’m allowed a private room.  I guess they’re worried I’ll snap and start chopping up any roommates.

Pushing myself to my feet, I tried take inventory of the room, hoping to push the dream from my mind.  Not the first time I had it.

It’s small.  A single bed, bed not cot mind you, rests against a wall with a small window.  I have a closet, a desk with a recording station, and a thin metal chair.  I put a small plant near the window when I was informed I’d no longer be allowed live with my sister Mary, who’d been putting up with me for a few years.  Mint.

I plucked a leaf and put into my mouth and sighed.

I had fallen asleep on the chair again, I haven’t used that bed in days.  Lying down seems to be getting me sick lately so I've been sitting to relax.  Then I pass out.  I make a mental note to talk to the Doc about it later.  

I go threw the usual motions:  Run, shower, eat.   After this, I find myself sitting in the mess reading a book.  It was full of scientific facts and figures, I could understand every third word.  I had asked Doc to give me some reading material so I could better understand the Aleph. 

 

I had been hoping for something like “Giant Robots for Criminals Gone Straight” Or "So you're Piloting a Prototype Valkyrie."  He gave me “Advance Theories for something with eight syllables I still can’t get right.”

I was about an eighth of the way threw page twenty, only a mild headache so far, when my beeper went off.  

Getting up at a run, took off down the hallway fumbling not to drop the book.  Along the way I was able to turn on my headset to get in contact with Shelly.

“Hey Shell, I just got..”

“I know we got the message too.  Seems something is happening and you’re being mobilized with a squad of Valks.”

“Got it.  I’ll be at the hanger in...”

“No, go to the briefing room.  Doctor Cecil is in the hanger overseeing the Aleph’s prep.  You need to go receive your orders.  Remember, this isn’t a test run.  This is an official operation with the military.  Try not to get in to trouble.”

I had shifted my destination while she was talking.  I was already next to the briefing room by luck, I’d probably be the first one there.  

God, I hope I don’t seem to eager...

“Got it Shell.  First mission, make a good impression, don’t push any kids in the sandbox.”

“... dear god you’re going to get us kicked out.”

And thank you for the vote of confidence.  Like I'm not nervous enought

“We’ll be fine.  Wish me luck.  I'm going to need my cap.”  I turned off the headset as I got to the door of the briefing room.  Taking a deep breath I walked in.

Be professional.

I was right, first one in. 

 

One eager beaver reporting for duty.  Hooray.

I sat down near a corner away from the door.  Waited patiently.  Some officials walked in, stating that the briefing will begin when the rest of the squad arrives.

I continued sitting in silence, regretting the food I just ate.  I was scheduled to test the Aleph later today and I need energy for that, but getting into the Blue on a full stomach was a pain and a half.  

More people filtered in with a sense of urgency.  Then the door opened and a combat suit walked in.  There was a murmur by some of the others in the room, I failed at suppressing a whistle.  The suit was damn sexy and looked ready for combat.

Some type of blade weapons, a railgun maybe, looks like the defense is just reinforced armor.  Probably fast as hell.  

I waved at “it” with a goofy smile one might get when seeing a celebrity and hoped it would come stand next to where I was sitting so I could get a better look.  It took me a second to realize this was what Shell was worried about.  

Professionalism 0, stereotypical male like of high performance machinery 1.

I liked the Valkyrie, what do you want?  The Aleph is amazing to look at, but it’s one of the bigger Valks, I couldn’t fit it in here if we disassembled it completely.  This one was small and looked ready for a scrap and half.

The suit addressed the OIC and I realized that the pilot was female.  I now regretted waving at it like an idiot.

What a wonderful way to start the op.

Edited by JumpinJR, 08 February 2015 - 09:25 AM.

[Diabolical Rhapsody]

2nd Lieutenant Esthelle Vargas

 

(10th Point)

 

R.E.A.P.E.R #00 - MEDUSA

 

In Company of Gods

 

A blip inside her hibernation chamber alerted Esthelle that the Colonel was up and about her daily routine. Waking up groggily, she commanded Giro to port in her mobile suit. Following her daily ritual of getting fresh she walked by The Myrmidon for a cup of Hot coffee to start her day with tinkering about her suit. All the while her visor feeding her real-time whereabouts of her beloved Colonel who for some reason always liked her own company more than others. She was a strange one, for someone so popular to be so reserved but that's what made her adorable in eyes of Esthelle.

 

As she went about her usual routine of fiddling with systems, losing the sense of time, a beep brought her back. She knew what the pattern meant and that if she was to report back at the Command, her suit would get her much faster than anything else. It seemed Colonel had already left for the meeting, judging by the loud roar that almost shook the whole hangar. She wondered how oblivious she had been to the tracker to not notice her waltz right in the hangar.

 

Not wasting anytime, she opened a private COMM. channel with the Colonel "So, Colonel. What are we hunting today?" 

 

Giro meanwhile ported her seamlessly into her suit. As she settled in comfortably, not waiting for her superior to reply.

 

"Did you notice your new thrusters, I hope you like them. By the sound of them, I know Yuri won't pick my tinkerings. ~giggle~"

 

"See you in Five." With that she left the Link on standby should Isabel chose to reply. Her suit was ready and she was ready in it. Unlike most though, she didn't have a fancy launch sequence or nor a priming thruster buildup. She let gravity do that work for. With all things in place. She gave command for the power up.

 

The suit stood erect as various parts moved in their places. In a second, the pothole beneath her opened and she was in orbit. Freefalling for a few hundred meters before the thrusters and propellers kicked in. She was off to her destination at supersonic speed.

 

Barely moments later she was standing a few steps behind Isabel, her suit significantly bigger than hers but still a lot smaller than what was the norm. She was a Reaper only in namesake, a project started after the first success of program Isabel was a part of. Though it was built in mind keeping the losses the originals suffered during the shrike ambush three years back. Thus it wasn't as beautiful and agile as the original.

 

"2nd Lieutenant Vargas, reporting for duty. Sir!!" came out a mechanical voice as she announced herself to the OIC. 

Edited by RP Fiend, 08 February 2015 - 09:13 AM.

[The Illuminati]

Jaegal

With her face half-hidden in her purple pillow with black patterns, Devona tenderly caressed the back of Cleopatra's head with her left hand. The chupacabra in turn purred gratefully, before rolling over so Devona could get at her soft underbelly.

Cleopatra had super large ears and big blue eyes with a leopard-spotted coat, and a long tail tipped in puffy, white fur. The product of a black market experiment, she was scheduled to be recycled until Devona decided to step in and rescue the creature. Her full capabilities were still a mystery but Devona felt confident that Cleopatra was benign.

Watching her playfully bat at her hand with an almost human-like smile, brought something similar to the corner of Devona's mouth that wasn't hidden in her pillow. She wasn't an animal person by any stretch of the imagination but Cleopatra wasn't exactly your typical pet.

A soft ping from the far corner of the room signalled that it was almost time for her shift to start, making Devona mock-groan. Predictably, Cleopatra rolled out from under Devona's hand and began tugging her fingers to get.

Devona watched the tiny creature for a moment longer, her grey eyes soft with emotion, before cursing her pet for being a slave driver. Cleo's response was swift and deadly as she grabbed one of Devona's pillows, triggering the start of yet another epic pillow war.

 
With her 6 ft. long hair tied up in a ponytail, Devona made her way over to Aneteria's briefing room. The place had slowly come to life with whispers and rumours as word quickly spread about the UFO that was on a collision course with the station.

Of course no one was actually concerned with a possibility of a crash, that was just ludicrous considering all of the Triumvirate's defence options. Instead people were humming with the possibility that this might actually have something to do with what had happened over ten years ago.

Devona herself still hadn't been able to find her old contact. After sending the message, he'd simply vanished. Apparently now it was up to her to find clues to his whereabouts and retrace his steps, since he'd never been reported missing, which was one of the reasons why she was currently staying in his apartment. So far though, she hadn't been able to find anything.

Walking into the briefing room a moment later, she politely greeted everyone that made eye contact with her -- which seemed to be most of the people already there. It was strange how something as small as a smile could make people want to interact with her. Or maybe girls with scars across their face was just a thing here on this station.

Shrugging mentally, Devona took her seat and waited for the debriefing to start. Her guess was that this was going to be a recovery mission. The real question however, was whether or not what they brought back was actually what was drifting towards the station.

Let's be honest here, the simple fact was that something had happened ten years ago, and to this day there was no conclusive explanation for the disaster. Something didn't smell right here and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Cleopatra

Spoiler

Edited by Obsession, 08 February 2015 - 02:00 PM.

[Darkoda]

Major Coco Gelato

10^th Point

 

The steady hum of machinery and the chill in the air provided the perfect conditions for her to sleep, the scientist going through her regular caffeine crash, out cold on her bed in her private quarters. Not even the steady beeping of her phone was doing much to wake her up, but then she’d designed it to have an alternate means of getting her attention if need be. After five minutes, the room was filled with blaring loud music, the noise snapping her awake and a hand flying out to reach a button that wasn’t there.

 

“Damnit all….”

 

But then that was quite intentional; to turn them off she had to leave her bed and walk across the room and by that point, she was too awake to really go back to sleep. Putting on her glasses, she grabbed her MID and flipped through the updates on a few projects she had working. Her Shrike project needed some more materials once again, she needed to get her Reaper suit back for some testing, and the Violet Spark’s Idea Engine was working at 93% efficiency, a bit of an improvement.

 

“Right, now what else is up for today…” After performing her regular cleaning of herself, the scientist walked to the research division, the other workers already coming at her with various updates and tests that they believed required her personal attention instead of simply monitoring. And with that, she was kept occupied for a few hours, studying, tinkering and putting out proverbial fires before they became actual ones.

 

Then that mission report came in, with a Code Red at that; so she couldn’t ignore it without another emergency on her hands and unfortunately, her own team here was competent enough to take care of things. If she was going to put up with a meeting already though she’d at least get some breakfast first.

 

So it was that she walked into the meeting, a jumbo sized cup of some kind of frothy, chocolate infused caffeinated concoction in one hand, and what was likely half of some kind of chocolate muffin in the other, eyes hidden behind her glasses as her gaze locked onto Mendoza. “Good, this saves time, I need your suit today, it’s due for its checkup and I need to run some diagnostics, see what those data trackers picked up.”

 

Her eyes brushed over everyone else, wondering just what it was that happened to get so many people in here.

[Misty]

Darkness, complete loss of the visual senses, Sephtis could hear the shallow breathing of Bethany, or Belle, or Anna, whatever her name was. He hadn't been drunk, he just didn't care, which in a lot of minds would be a far worse crime. He reached out anyway, his hand finding her head and the short bob of hair there. Although he'd already deduced it was Anna, he was bored, and he let it continue downwards to find the slim stomach and small breasts that went with Anna. It made better sense now, her arm was across his chest and her hand was resting against one of his scars. Anna liked the scars, the others found them ugly although they'd never said so.

 

He pushed the arm off himself, although he was a might more tender with it than he would have been if it were Bethany or Belle. He must have wanted someone to be tender with him, and Anna for all her rough and tumble nature was tender with him. She didn't expect a military hyper-man.

 

He cleared a patch of Anna's floor with his foot and lay down to do his morning situps and then pushups. Anna woke up around the time he was almost done with the pushups. She switched the light on to watch the Roman Eagle on his back, intense, as if about to fly off his back as his torso moved up and down in quick succession.

 

He must have been aware of her, but she knew not to interrupt him when he looked this focused. When he finally stopped bobbing up and down and turned to look at her she gave him a thin little smile and he returned it with a raised eyebrow and grin before he stood up to start pulling back on his dress uniform.

 

“You're leaving already?”

 

He didn't freeze his dressing, just continued working while paying attention to the buttons as he spoke.

 

“I'm supposed to be test piloting again today and I smell like four bars, a carton of cigarettes, a whole lot of sweat, and one beautiful woman.”

 

Anna let out a strained and angry laugh.

 

“You're such an asshole, Hadrian. You show up here for a tumble and don't even stay to see how I am. You've been doing this for years but you won't ask me out for a proper date or even think to pretend I'm important to you. You could at least ask how my life is, even if I'm not some big fancy test pilot.”

 

Sephtis had finished buttoning his shirt by that point and was now standing to tuck in his shirt and pull his pants on. He did this in such a slow deliberate fashion that it seemed as if he were ignoring her, although in truth he was watching her from the corner of his eyes.

 

She'd begun to cry and was doing her best to hide it. This was the problem with Anna, she expected something of him that the other women he could have gone to did not. Was it because she was a bit older or was there something about women with short hair and a lack of the same assets of other women that made them desire his love and attention?

 

He made as if to leave her crying silently there, tucking his wallet, cigarettes, and lighter into his pocket, he'd reached the door and her crying had grown louder, childishly so and then he turned moving back toward her and sitting down. With a careful hand he pushed aside the tears there, put a cigarette between her lips, and lit it for her. “How are you, Anna?”

 

She slapped him. He'd been expecting it, but he let her have the smack anyway. At least the tears were coming slower and the cigarette seemed to be helping slightly as she calmed. “You're such an asshole, Sephtis. Did you get that from your father?” He stiffened. Slaps were one thing, but Anna knew she was on thin ice with a comment like that. He reached to grip her face so she would have to stare at him while he spoke.

 

“No one makes you open your door to me, a man who's attention you so desperately desire and then when you have it you want it for childish things like questions about your life. The women I ask out on dates, I don't respect because I'm assuming they like their fantasies that they are going to change me. I don't do that to you, because I actually sorta like you and know that no matter how delusional you get at five in the morning, you know you aren't changing anything. Now it is fine to hit me, it is fine to shout general profanity at me, but the attack about my father was below the belt.”

 

He let go of her face then, planted a chilling kiss on her cheek and stood up to leave shutting the light off as he went. From the darkness behind him, he heard her voice, “Sephtis, I'm sorry.” He shut the door on her, knowing that she was going to laugh until she cried. He'd seen her do it over other men, after all.

 

 

When the alarm went up, Sephtis had been studying at his desk. He'd gotten to the compound and been showered and changed into a clean uniform with his pilot's gear on underneath around six. He wasn't supposed to go on duty for awhile, and deep study of tactics proved the best method to deal with his problems.

 

A young woman came running into the room, saluted quickly, “Sir, the Console just picked up a signal from a command unit. We have no ongoing missions, sir.” Sephtis was up the moment she said command unit. He knew there were no ongoing missions. He strode alongside her his hands in his pockets.

 

When they reached the others he got the report from Septus, glad to see they were already addressing matters, he turned things back over to them, “Await the orders of an officer, but you did well to mobilize the forces, Mr. Sephtis.” With that he was striding again, making his way to the hangar. As he went he was giving orders, “Have Prometheus made ready at once. I want it launch ready in the next fifteen minutes.”

 

He reached the changing room and stripped away the nice uniform in favour of his pilot uniform, a rather skin tight neuro suit that was capable of helping sustain even an injured pilot for weeks as well as being able to deliver shocks to the heart. The suit he'd nicknamed “the womb” for its ability to sustain life. He strode from the changing room and was soon strapping himself into Prometheus.

 

After the synch sequence checked out, he was off and running out of the hangar and then dead dropping for a moment before he activated the thrusters. Prometheus was the fasted heavy valk on the force, it had to be to be able to sustain the sword fighting of its pilot and the heavy armour he wanted. It was the best valk he'd ever piloted and he'd test piloted every suit in the last decade.

 

When he landed in the hangar it made a loud noise and technicians rushed to get it plugged in while keeping it ready for launch. Sephtis climbed from it easily sliding down the side as if he'd been born a pilot. He strode forward in his pilot's uniform that displayed the Lt. Colonel rank. He nodded to each of the people there, especially the one in a suit, “Lt. Colonel Mendoza, you look lovely and dangerous as always.” With that he leaned against the wall pulling his hair up out of his face to reveal the piercing on his ear.

[Siderealmidnight]

Volya finished up the last repairs on the mech with a drawn out sigh. It had been a simple fix, a coupling had worn down in the engine's main cooling pipe, a child could fix it if they had the right tools. The problem came when he had to find the coupling in stocks. Stocks was getting lean, the whole station was getting lean. Once again Volya was reminded of the cruel reality in the simplest tasks. Rationing metals and making stopgap repairs were stalls at best. If a real solution wasn't found the Shrikes wouldn't need to keep attacking to bring the station down, all they would need to do is wait for the machinery that kept the city aloft to fail because they didn't have the excess metal to keep it running anymore. Volya was high enough on the totem pole to know the solutions being worked on, he even headed some of them himself. But that didn't stop the worry that he and everyone else had since Port Flight sank into the clouds all those years ago.

 

"Major, you've been summoned to the war room. All the top brass are getting called in" It was one of the Airmen, Volya had tried to keep track of their names for a while but the number of those who either volunteered or were drafted into the Valkyries these days made it impossible.

 

"I'm not top brass soldier. There are at least three brigadier generals and a gaggle of LTs above me for things involving top brass."

 

"Sir I've been told to tell you that all those in the chain of command above you are currently in the field."

 

Volya grumbled several sentences unbecoming an officer as he deposited his tools and changed out of his mechanic suit.

 

When he arrived Volya found that rumors of a lack of COs had not been exaggerated in the slightest. The war room was a ghost town populated almost entirely by the spirits of enlisted walking around like chickens with their heads cut off.

 

But at the end of the day someone had to have given the order bringing him here, and as likely as not that person would explain why.

 

After flagging down an enlisted for some coffee Volya leaned back in his chair and began to dose. He knew why calls like this were made and chances were he wouldn't be able to sleep anytime in the near future.