Time to find out what the Military has in store for The Gang.
13:30 Hours,
The following day.
Due to space constraints, the meeting had been moved to the re-purposed Mess hall that was my impromptu dorm. Most of the furniture was gone, leaving room for me to stretch without hitting walls. The pile of spare blankets and mattresses that doubled as a bed/sofa for me had pride of place, with a single table and a half dozen chairs left for Triad games. The days Physical Therapy had been cut short, Doc Hacker merely giving me a clean bill of health before helping remove my bandages. It felt great to move freely after a week of limited mobility, my excitement sending a happy wriggle from tail to snout.
With that out of the way, I went right back to my nest, curling up on the blankets waiting for everyone else to filter in. First to arrive was Jess and Hadrian, my friend all geared up and ready to rock. Hadrian had been given a fresh coat of paint, the scratches and dents buffed out to leave him shining. Tossing her pack against the wall, Jessie decided to use my chest as a backrest, the woman sitting between my forelegs. It felt weird to say, but I appreciated the contact, especially during the nights when my dreams took a turn for the dark. Just having her nearby worked wonders to keep the nightmares at bay. Our mechanical friend took up position flanking me, standing at parade rest, a pose he could hold indefinitely given his nature.
The clock on the wall ticked unbearably slowly, the minute hand like molasses. Next to arrive was Lieutenant Valerie, striding through the double doors with Ramirez on her heels. The two grinned at seeing Jess's position, the woman in question giving them the finger, her eyes still closed. Milo gives me a smile and a wave, joining Valerie in claiming a chair at the Triad table. There was a feeling of anticipation in the air, all our attention drifting to the clock as the briefing time came closer. The next group through were to my surprise a pair of pilots that had joined in on our nightly Triad games, though I'd never caught their names. The taller woman of the two froze at seeing Val, her companion pushing past her to throw us all a cheery wave. Both shared a familial resemblance, dyed green hair, and vaguely Asiatic features standing out compared to the humans among the group.
Careful not to disturb Jess, I gave the smaller pilot a wave, getting a beaming smile in return. With them seated the room was down to two chairs left and with only five minutes till the briefing began, I wondered if the seats would be filled. Barely thirty seconds later, I got my answer as two men bearing the Entrenching tool superimposed on an Aegis of Combat Engineers snapped Lieutenant Valerie a salute. One gave Jess lying against my chest an odd look, dismissing it a moment later. And with that, we had nine people present all told, the eclectic mix a true bunch of oddballs.
What sort of unit needed two Army Troopers, a Marine, a U-87 commander, two pilots, and a pair of combat engineers? Hell, I didn't even know why they wanted me, beyond what Jess's orders had mentioned.
Right as the clock hit 14:00, Major Matos arrived, a gaunt, Tarkin-Esque Spark at his side. Everyone present jumped to attention, Jess scrambling to her feet and joining in. Unsure of what to do, I raised two talons to the ridge above my eye, emulating the salute.
"At ease everyone, good to see you're all on time, we're off to a good start then!" The Spark rigging up a Tacpad to the projector as the Major spoke.
"Everything you'll hear is marked Vermilion, so lips shut and no talking to anyone else about this before we leave." His expression and tone brooked no argument, whatever Vermilion was making the humans stiffen, surprise maybe?
"The powers that be, in this case, the Defense Department, for those wondering has signed off on the reactivation of the Zoological Warfare Division. I'm well aware Corporal Anders and the Lieutenant know it's a smokescreen, but to get everyone on the same page, let me explain."
On cue, the projector hummed to life, a now-familiar video playing, catching my fight in the tunnel with impressive quality and sound too! The footage skipped past most of it, screen-in-screen picking out the moments where I'd been particularly brutal. At the time I was so caught up in battle-lust that just how bestial I'd behaved was missed. All-told, six screens captured the last moments of a Cylon, each one ripped apart, screaming all the while. The group's reactions I could see were split into two camps, Valerie and the engineers breaking into bloodthirsty grins. Meanwhile, Jess, Milo, and the pilots looked decidedly uncomfortable listening to the looping screams.
Point made, the Spark thankfully cut off the sound, stifling the growing headache the noise had been causing. One of the engineers raised a hand, looking confused.
"What does Chromejobs dying screaming have to do with our orders, Sir?" The guy had a point, even I didn't know and I was the one who'd killed the damn toasters.
"Thanks to new information from a number of... trusted sources, we now know the assumption Cylons don't feel pain is false. Ironically, while the specifics of what causes it aren't known, when they do feel pain it propagates through the network they all share,"
That little revelation had those not in the know shocked, the deep-rooted notion that all Cylons were emotionless robots conflicting with this new info. Jess and Valerie stood out just from the fact the revelation changed nothing for them.
Major Valerian waved his companion forward, the gaunt man throwing me a stink-eye for reasons unknown. What had I ever done to piss him off, I'd never met the guy! "I'll let Specialist Hatch explain the next bit, networks are his thing."
"Thank you, sir, as you're all aware, the Cylon's network they use to communicate is part of what makes them such a terror on the battlefield. Every individual Cylon knowing what the others are doing in the local network. If the Toasters can be cut off from their network, then it's every Chromejob for itself. Primarily, this as-yet-unnamed Unit will be tasked with testing at what threshold the Cylons will shut down their network if the shared pain they feel becomes too much."
Hatch reminded me of Gaius Baltar, and not in the "handsome scientist" way. He sounded full of himself, haughty, and every other word for smug asshole. I was tempted to accidentally flick a can his way, a foot-stomping on my paw thanks to Jess. It didn't hurt, but it got across the message well enough, "not now". Reluctantly dropping the can a tail had snagged, I focused on the briefing again just in time to catch the Major speaking. This was the most animated I'd ever seen the man, his fingers stabbing at the display as it changed from the video to a scrolling block of text.
"Everyone here has either volunteered when provided the opportunity or like myself been ordered to take part. Make no mistake people, this Unit's primary goal will be to cause the Toasters pain, vengeance for what they've cast on us. We've all lost people, friends, family, comrades."
I could see his eyes shining, the light from the projector casting his grin with an ugly edge to it. If there was one thing that gave me the creeps about people here, it was the almost... fanatical desire for revenge. That more than anything showed this war was a dirty one, morals and ethics stretched or cast aside in the name of vengeance for past sins. Whether the Cylons and their almost genocidal rebellion for the slavery they'd suffered or the Colonial's lack of mercy from the atrocities committed upon them, both sides treating the other beyond contempt.
For all I'd been a fan of 40k, there's a difference between enjoying it as fiction and watching that same kind of fanaticism in person, just like the Monotheist Loyalist Cylon had. Of everyone in the room, only Hadrian, Milo, and myself weren't caught up in the bloodlust. I caught Milo's eye, offering the young soldier a, hopefully, conciliatory nod. Milo gave a faltering smile in response, looking at those around him in a new light.
A clap broke the trance, Major Valerian looking much more composed, giving us a knowing look.
"Now that we've covered the basics, we've got..." checking the watch on one wrist, "enough time for introductions before we need to depart for our new base. You all know me and Specialist Hatch, we'll be working together a lot in the future."
The taller pilot stood, her...sister? jumping to her feet a second later. Once again, the strange accents of the Twelve Colonies reared it's head, though their Caprican was flawless.
"I'm Lieutenant Vanessa Zho and this is my sister Sandra Zho. Together we're the Pilot and ECO for the BlackWasp assault transport the unit has been assigned." At her side, the now-named Sandra beamed, clearly the happier of the two sisters.
We all made our greetings, the two sisters returning to their seats, the engineers standing next.
"The name's Willem Echard, Sergeant Echard. With me is Corporal Dekker, Anastasius Dekker." Willem sounded like he chewed gravel for a living and was built like a brick-shithouse. Dekker in comparison was whippet-thin, with a much softer voice when he spoke next.
"We volunteered for the unit on account of being the best Exoskeleton trainers that our CO could spare." The wry grin as he said the last part causing a few chuckles around the room.
I already knew Valerie and Milo, so I stopped paying attention while they introduced themselves, Jess and Hadrian following soon after. Lost in my thoughts, a rap across the bone spur on my snout bringing me back to the room. Everyone there was looking at me expectantly, making me freeze up as they expected me to introduce myself.
This sort of thing was my bane as a human, becoming Khanivore didn't help, considering her social skills weren't exactly relevant. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hadrian flashing me a thumbs up like he'd done what felt like ages ago, but was only a week. Steeling myself, I tried to match everyone's gaze, relief as nobody flinched at meeting eyes with me.
"Well... I'm Nike, resident Beastie who my friends tell me snores like a freight train, which is pure slander of course." Judging from the smiles and a few chuckles, my terrible attempt at humor was enough to break the ice.
I'd have to thank Hadrian later, for a Cylon, he was bloody good at reading people's moods including my own, god knows how he picked up that skill.
There was a little time left to mingle, so as people do, handshakes were exchanged all around. The newcomers found shaking one of my sub-tails novel, those limbs easier for humans to grasp than my paws and talons. The Major hadn't specifically said it, but I felt that one of the Unit's criteria was being willed to get close and interact with me. It stung, but I was getting used to it... mostly.
When it came time to move out, all two of my worldly possessions were kept safe in Hadrian's pack. As nice as the space was, it wasn't home, and being stuck indoors so much was driving me crazy. With his cap firmly on his head, Major Matos strode towards the Landing pads, us oddballs following behind with myself at the rear. Exiting the complex into the morning sunshine, it was a quick jog to the waiting transport. The Zho sisters were already clambering into the craft as I exited the building, the ship itself looking like a cross between a Heavy Raider, Lucky-13, and a Raptor on steroids. Chances were it was a precursor to a design that would eventually lead to the Heavy Raider.
As Jess ran up the rear ramp, it was my turn to head inside the troop bay/cargo hold. The rest of our group was buckled into the twin rows of bucket seats along each wall, the bay large enough I was able to curl up without intruding on anyone's toes. With the ramp shut, I barely felt any acceleration, the Colonial's pure BS gravity plating at work doubtlessly.
"I hope you're all secure, cause it's gonna be a six-hour flight and we don't have in-flight entertainment for Y'all." I'd have figured that kind of pilot banter was a movie thing, but clearly, it was a thing that happened here. I wasn't really tired, but the prospect of six hours of banal chatter lacked appeal. The rumble of the thrusters was just quiet enough to let me drift off, a soothing hum easing my thoughts.
-
A bit short, but the arrival didn't feel like it would fit here.
Some hints at the machinations running in the background and an introduction to the main unit.
Don't worry, Doc Hacker will be waiting for Nike... as will Tweed stalker guy, to her disappointment.