(no subject)

[truth_is_cold]

[Private to Dylan | Audio]*

[Sent as soon as he returns, though he's not sure when Dylan will get it or what the range of the communicators is.]

I've returned. The Southern City didn't have many resources. The construction of the dome damaged its economy. I suspect most of the fishermen left are generational. The people there were notably friendlier to outsiders than the ones here, but of course their homes are at less risk from air raids from the domes.

[And sent a bit later.]

If you hear reports of fog, stay way until it's cleared. Or purchase the first gas mask you can manage.



[Private to Sma | Audio]

I want to speak with you. In person. [Where the conversation can't be recorded.]



*OOC: Slightly backdated to fog times.

Comments

[diziet_sma]

[Sma sits down on a bare patch of floor, legs folded.]

I did. I wanted to go, but I was having a bad day. [Unusual for her; her shoulder had been bothering her more than usual and it was making her cranky, so she ended up sulking alone.] I'm not entirely sure what came out of it, to be honest. If anything. I can't imagine anybody believes any force that we could muster now would do much good, though obviously we've got to defend ourselves if they come calling again.

[truth_is_cold]

There was a lot of plans. Not a lot of information. And I highly suspect at least one of them is already in contact with the Authorities... [He nods toward the distance.]

I don't feel much safer, not knowing.

[diziet_sma]

[A frown. She had hoped that wouldn't have been the case, but she's regrettably unsurprised.]

You think so? Any idea who it might be?

[She thinks for a minute. She's been playing the quiet, unassuming diplomatic attaché, but maybe it's time to drop a few hints. The fact that it's just the two of them here helps.]

The Culture hasn't had a military in the sense of, say, Commander Shepard's sort, in a while. But we're not without ways of getting things done.

[truth_is_cold]

The small squirrely one. Narvin. He has the air of a rabbit who could be easily pressured. [Rabbit is used with the same tone that any other animal swear might be used.] Affected by the fog, a great deal of what he said didn't line up with what he claimed previously.

[He shifted, turning more toward her and putting his back against the wall.] I hope so. I want to get get one of the soldiers when they inevitably make another move. Last time, none were left alive before they retreated.

[diziet_sma]

[She nods in agreement.] I've known a Narvin or two, if I read him right. Definitely worth keeping an eye on.

A prisoner would be useful. Personally? I want to get into the dome. I don't know how, but there's got to be a way to do it, and do it subtly. No blazing guns needed.

[truth_is_cold]

Information would be helpful, which is why I would like the prisoner. I doubt their soldiers are important enough to use as collateral, but information they would have.

Not to mention access to an unharmed uniform.

[He glances down at her hands.] The mentioned that most of the people from the domes shared similar characteristics. [IE. Things that didn't resemble particularities on them. If she wanted in, she might need to find a way to disguise it or find someone more human.]

[diziet_sma]

[She steeples her fingers, a wry look on her face.]

I probably wouldn't get far, you're right. But given a uniform and someone of the right build ... you're right; there are possibilities.

[A pause, and then:] In the past, I've had access to ... extremely effective methods of disguise. But none of that is available to me here. I hate to admit how lost I am without my usual resources, but it's something I've been working to accept. It's not easy, though.

[It's part of why she's been keeping to herself, in fact. The invitation is open for Rhade to ask further; she's not volunteering, but her manner and tone suggest that she is, for once, feeling chatty. As if she's wanted to talk about this frankly with someone for weeks—indeed, she has.]

[truth_is_cold]

I suppose I would be less offended by the lack of resources if I weren't being kept at a disadvantage because someone was feeling insecure. [Wise on their part, perhaps. Stunting, but wise. Inconvenient on his.] We were made to adapt. Not... whatever this might be called. Merely subsists, I suppose.

[He could, if pressed, remove his boneblades. The idea was nightmarish, though, and nothing that called for anywhere near that necessity has come about.

He is curious, though.] What were your resources?

[diziet_sma]

[She's quiet for a moment.]

This ... isn't something I'm interested in having get around, as you might imagine.

I'm not just a diplomat. You might say I'm in espionage. I'm not in the field so much anymore these days; I'm more of a controller now. Back in my agent days, though—our tech is pretty sophisticated. A few surgical adaptations—a generic ear and cheekbone job, an adjustment in the number of finger joints—and I could blend in anywhere. I used to do that all the time.

[truth_is_cold]

[That was interesting. He'd approached her because she healed quickly, and when they first met she'd expressed interest in getting at those in the dome. This is enlightening, but... with their limited resources, between the two of them, only marginally helpful.]

I used to be a part of Argosy Special Operations. Gene grafts, surgical alteration, nothing was out of the question. It seems obvious to say it would be simpler if we had resources... But right now we only have access to running water under special conditions.

[He thumps his head back against the wall, his eyes rolling up.]

[diziet_sma]

[Sma laughs a little, ruefully.]

I wonder how many more secret spec-ops types we have here? Still, even if all we've got is our brains, it's got to be worth something. Especially if the nuts-and-bolts types can get the ship cleaned up. And if we can catch us a soldier.

[truth_is_cold]

...Besides the rabbit? [He's sure that Narvin has a background in it- or he wouldn't have immediately taken to lying.]

Possibly the psychics. At least one of them. And I know my Captain is, though he's extremely idealistic. He'll want to negotiate. I would rather have the intelligence before we do anything.

[He's not adverse to bloodshed. But sadly, this for him is fast becoming a distraction from leaving- he's increasingly unsure that he should do so.]

[diziet_sma]

I'm never going to not be able to think of him as that. We'll be lucky if I don't call him "rabbit" to his face. [She grinned, a joke.]

I agree, though. Even if we try to negotiate, we need to know more about what we're dealing with. I haven't gotten to talk to anyone who used to live in there—that would be a start.

[truth_is_cold]

There must be some here. I have yet to meet one. [But, while Rhade had decent social skills, he was also notably a foreigner.

And then he abruptly smiled, a charming, mischievous thing.] I don't think he'd know what to do if you did.

[diziet_sma]

[That smile gets a bright, shiny one in return.]

I'm sure I could come up with a plausible explanation that didn't sound like an insult.

Rhade will never let Narvin alone ever. This is Narvin's lot in any game.

[truth_is_cold]

He doesn't seem like the sort of man that would take well to the fertility observation. [He squints slightly as he says it.]

XD

[diziet_sma]

Kind of prim, don't you think? [She laughs.] I don't do well with prim. The urge to twit them is way too strong.

And then I had to go upload more icons of smiling.

[truth_is_cold]

Twit is a rather good way of putting it. [He sounds increasingly amused.] He also seems like the type that doesn't like to be questioned. When I wanted to double check the results on his collar investigation, he seemed hesitant and maybe even a little offended.

[diziet_sma]

Nice. We'll see how long that attitude lasts here before someone yells at him. [She shakes her head.] Can't afford to be snotty about things, not under these circumstances.

[She remembers something she wanted to ask him.] Your captain. That's ... Dylan Hunt, am I right?

[She's been slightly off-grid over the last few weeks, but not so much that she's been completely ignorant of comings, goings, and names.]

[truth_is_cold]

Yes, he's a Heavy Gravity Worlder.

[Dylan may not identify as more than human, but Rhade definitely remembers exactly what he is at any given moment.]

[diziet_sma]

How long have you been in his command?

[truth_is_cold]

Over three years now. [He sort of half-smiles, at the wall, this time a little sadly.]

To him, I've not been under his command for over a year. He comes from an alternate timeline where I went through with something I've been planning- and planning against -since the Treaty of Antares. I betrayed him, and I presume I died in the battle or the Commonwealth put me to death. [Dylan never told him what happened. He just knows that he must be dead, that it's 300 years in the future for Dylan, and that his family survived.]

But for now I'll do as I'm ordered. He hasn't specifically ordered me not to do this. Shepherd did, but she's not my commanding officer.

[He's a little surprised Dylan's acknowledging him all, considering that he was planning what he did and has admitted as much.]

[diziet_sma]

[This actually gets a slightly confused blink from Sma; she's still getting the hang of this whole alternate timeline idea—namely that it appears to be actual here, and not merely theoretical. But she listens, and thinks she understands.]

That's ... well, if you don't mind my saying so, it sounds potentially rather awkward. [Then a bit of a smile.] That being said, I'd agree that your official CO from home ranks anyone else.

[truth_is_cold]

Incredibly so. [He agrees about it being awkward. And extremely difficult to accept.]

I simply have to determine how to use myself as bait and not become overwhelmed by enemy forces. Presumably by having an adequate trap in place or more people lying in wait.

[diziet_sma]

Well. You can count on my help, in any case, whatever you decide to do.

[Her mouth goes up in a tiny half-smile.]

Normally, I'd have a friend with me. A somewhat obstreperous and trigger-happy AI by the name of Skaffen-Amtiskaw—an escort drone assigned to me as bodyguard, secretary, personal factotum, et cetera. I've been hoping it might turn out to be hiding in one of the pods, but no luck yet. It'd be invaluable for a plan like this.

[Wishing for what one can't have is pointless, she knows, but she misses the drone, and this is the first time she's been able to talk about it.]