Chapter 23: A Quiet Chat

Life in the camp was somewhat subdued after the battle, with everyone being busy in their own ways. Some were laid up in beds, recovering from wounds received from Shadow Paladin, Pale Moon, or Star-vader, though more the former two; while others were out in the fields, recovering bodies and tokens of the fallen to be sent home. Others still honored the fallen… Or not, depending on if they were Link Joker or not. Then again, it wasn't like the Star-vaders would have cared for Craian burial/cremation practices.

But among the camp was a grim satisfaction burgeoning on happiness. Pale Moon was an ally once more. Moreover, there was proof that the Яeversed could be brought back to sanity or at least functional insanity. They had the basis of a process now, and that made their end goal much more achievable.

Those higher on the command ladders were embroiled in plans, preparing to set out for the depths of the Dark Zone in order to confront Amon while they could. It would be a blow to the Demon's status among the Dark Irregulars, but it wasn't as if there weren't plots being concocted and knives being sharpened in the dark all the time with that Clan.

And those of the Link Joker who were fighting for Cray, they were also split up. Of course those born to Cray were aiding their Primary Clans however they could.

The Gravity Ball Dragon was immersed in sketching down plans and notes for upgrading and altering the others, preparing for the time when they were trusted enough to move on their own.

The Colony Maker had taken to decorating her own space in bright, clashing colours, the aesthetic cacophony appealing to her fledgling ego.

And for the one who had sparked the change in those two, and flipped the war on its head completely by accident, he was simply walking through the camp, taking in the atmosphere. A light breeze brushed his Promethium Body's hair back and caused the tail of his duster to slowly flap. The lee side of the mountain had an arid tang to it that spoke of more sun in the day and clear skies at night.

Trent Blackmore was not native to Cray, nor would he have liked to have been its enemy, but he was still embroiled in its current conflict. If he had any say in it, he'd have been observing the entire matter from a distance, such as a world away, rather than actually fighting. He didn't much care for the idea of fighting for his life, for being pulled into a brutal war where he was forced to help deal with the enemy's forces. Blackmore didn't want to have to reaffirm that he was human, not some simple glitch that gained will, nor a sleeper agent sent to sow discontent and misinformation among the Craian populace.

The man in the machine sighed aloud as he headed for the edge of the camp, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was almost impossible to not notice two of the Shadow Paladin scouts keeping an eye on him rather than the sky or the outside wilderness.

"I'd say that this isn't my scene, but Christ, what is at this point?" He felt lost, adrift despite the clear goals he had in mind. He'd fought before, but never for his life, and while he enjoyed a fight or two that he'd been in before simply due to some bit of primal satisfaction and his own sadism, but the current stakes…

He reached the edge of the camp, where it shifted to the battlefield, where there were still people combing through the wreckage. The man sighed again, and then stepped forward onto the battlefield, his eyes locked on a hulking pile of alien metal and electronics that had once been a Star-vader. With a swift hop that should have taken far more strength than what he actually put into it, he landed atop it and promptly collapsed to lie back on it, his legs hanging over the edge as he stared into the sky.

Planetoids, moons, and stars filled the sky, all of it alien and unfamiliar to the man as he studied them. Some were close enough to make out actual details of their structure; with visible pockmarks from meteors, seismic mountains and valleys, and the telltale reflections of polished metal that spoke of habitation colonies perhaps for mining; while others were just splashes of colour in the sky.

"I'd make a joke about unfamiliar ceilings and skies, but I'm the only one here who knows Evangelion," Trent murmured quietly, sulking at an unhelpful cosmos. It was no help to him, and sulking wouldn't help in the long run; but it was also something he could really ignore. It just wasn't healthy to ignore one's feelings and bottle them up, he'd learned that well enough.

There was a light clicking, and someone replied, "Perhaps, but perhaps we've some knowledge of your references. Do remember the Etrangers." The Яogue's eyes whirled in their sockets to find Ashlei standing on the hulk beside him, weapon sheathed but no less intense than she had been striking down a body of Nebula Lord Dragon. Perhaps it was a side-effect of the magic she commanded?

Blackmore shrugged, the action making an odd sound as his coat dragged against the metal beneath him. With an airy gesture to where his watchers had been, he remarked, "Those two decide to tattle on me for taking a walk?"

"Not as such, Blackmore," she replied. Her voice was soft, but still held steel. "I actually intended on speaking with you for my own purposes. We're to be partners of sorts, it was remiss of me to not have spoken to you properly before now."

The man pushed himself into a sitting position, gaze focusing out over the battlefield and towards the mountains that looked so far away. With a deep inhale, he admitted, "Well, it's not like we all weren't busy as bees getting ready for the battle earlier. Besides, I was basically avoiding everyone outside of the Colony Maker and the gremlin, so I'm sort of at fault as well."

"How…Noble of you," She muttered amusedly, a small smile crossing her stoic features. She slid down next to him, her scabbard clicking against their makeshift seat as she did. "You were also on your way to your first battle in a war that you've been forced to fight in, as you have oh so helpfully reminded Junos and Mordred. And quite effectively blackmailed to do so. We might have been wary of you due to your nature and the powers you wield as a Link Joker, but we also made no effort to reach out."

She made no efforts to hide her own annoyance as she added, "It's the fact that we would push away someone so willing to help that nearly caused Gancelot to leave the Royal Paladins. One would think that we would learn."

"People avoid things that make them uncomfortable. Be they something new, something scary, or what should be an enemy bearing gifts," Blackmore remarked, his posture slouched despite his words of reassurance.

"That one is a reference to an ancient poem on Earth, isn't it? One from the quote, 'Western World'?" she asked, a smile beginning to play on her lips. "I would hope that we not be devoured by snakes for being right."

Trent shrugged exaggeratedly, "Hell if I know, I'm not a big poetry buff. I was just working off my own knowledge and experiences, and as for the snakes…Well, I'd rather die in the right than utterly wrong."

"I suppose you're that sort of person then, who'd rather be right and dead and wrong and alive," Ashlei chuckled lightly, the wind picking up for a moment and sending her blond locks into the unamused man's face.

Even as she apologized, he brushed it out of his face and answered, "I'd honestly rather just be alive, right or otherwise. But, if I did have to die, I'd like to be in the right while dead."

"So less a case of convictions and more a case of pigheadedness," The Elf joked, causing the man to snap his fingers into a thumbs-up.

The pair let the conversation lapse into silence, not quite enjoying the other's company, both of them too uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the other to truly relax. Instead, they let the wind wash over them for some time, the quiet broken solely by the mild chatter from the camp behind them.

After a few silent minutes, the knight spoke up, "I was barred from meeting with her... But is Luquier doing alright? Outside of her ordeal with Яeversal, I mean."

"Well, she and I probably aren't on the best terms and it'll likely take some time for her and I to properly see eye to eye, but I think she'll be alright," The Canadian answered, his gaze distant. "She'll need time to recover, and come to terms with everything that's happened, but I think she'll be okay. She's got her reasons to keep going forward."

"That is good," the knight said and Trent could see her blink out of the corner of his eye before she resolutely stared, not at the landscape but at the image of the future in her mind. "I don't think I have ever met the Circus mistress, and I sincerely doubt I will ever call her 'friend' but in this war we will need everyone we can get. Especially with… the one called Chaos Breaker Dragon turning soldiers against brothers and sisters with his Яeverse."

The Canuck sighed, extremely tempted to collapse back into a lying position at the thought of the Star-vader general. With a grunt, he managed, "Well, that's just the Clown's way. Push his targets into corners and needle until they're almost broken. Then, when they're at their limit, he offers them a source of hope, all so he can rip it away and watch them shatter."

"The exact worst sort of person then," Ashlei dryly commented, crossing her arms over her midsection.

The Canadian nodded with a wry chuckle, "Yup, though I'll admit, I like to do the same thing in games and such. I'm a sadist, but there are healthy ways to get one's kicks in."

"Did you use him as a role model then?" The Elf inquired jokingly, somewhat amused by the thought.

Trent went to answer, and then stopped. While he would never actually call Chaos Breaker a role model, he did pick up and enjoy playing Link Joker for a [i]reason[/i]. With another explosive sigh, he answered, "Well, not really? I'll admit that he was one of the reasons I enjoyed playing Link Joker back home, but that was hardly the only part of the equation."

"A question then," Ashlei began, here eyes hard and boring into him. "You are playing the game. You have the kill on the board. Do you go for it or do you hold off for another turn just to make the opponent squirm?"

"Go for the kill, there's a difference between being sadistic and being a slow-rolling asshat," He declared instantly. He hated people who slow-rolled, and made every effort not to be one himself.

The woman nodded, pleased. "Yes, fight and finish the fight when you can safely. If you are unsure, that is one thing. But to knowingly hold back, that is unforgivable and will get you killed."

"I mean, not at home, it'd probably just make people angry at me, but I get what you mean," Blackmore replied, not quite being able to equate his own experiences to Ashlei's. "Hell, the one time I went out of my way to do something like what you're saying, because I was so assured of my victory… I decked myself out."

That got a proper laugh from the knight, setting her shoulders shaking as she imagined the scenario. "Truly? You managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory?"

"It was terrible, I had nearly won the weekly tournament and my overconfidence cost me first place. To someone playing a Raizer deck of all things," The man explained, laughing over the memory. He could still remember the way he and his opponent had burst out laughing as he did his second check, revealing a draw trigger, and forcing him to deck out and lose the game.

One of Ashlei's eyebrows ticked up as she inquired, "Oh? But the Raizers are quite formidable. I think you're being rather unfair to them even if you were winning at the time."

"I mean, sure they are here on Cray, but in the card game back home for me… Well, they were far from being a deck that had any real place in the meta during the initial releases of Link Joker cards," Trent all but pouted, trying to get the woman to understand his point of view.

"So they will have difficulty then?" the Elf asked, suddenly sombre. "It seems all of Star Gate is ill-equipped to deal with these invaders. I fear what will come should this war be further drawn out."

"I… Well, no? Kind of? It's…" The man couldn't help put trip over his words, not quite knowing how to explain. "I don't quite know how to translate things over to actual battlefield knowledge from the card game, but the Nova Grapplers can do well against the Star-vaders... Provided that they blitz them properly and keep the Star-vaders from getting a proper foothold on the ground. What I meant for meta was just that the Raizers hadn't really gotten any support for some time before the match."

Ashlei hummed, still not quite back to the enthusiasm before as she murmured, "I see, a simple miscommunication then. Still, it's not something pleasant to think about."

"War shouldn't be," Trent muttered, feeling the heavy atmosphere pulling his mood down as well.

Even during a pleasant enough chat, the war found a way to bring things down.

"It wasn't like this always," Ashlei muttered. "There were disputes, skirmishes… Tournaments and festivals. Combat and challenge was something we enjoyed, not needed to survive."

"I wish I could tell you why." Trent remarked, not having an answer for the situation. "It was never answered, the reason why the Link Joker descended on Cray. They always just seemed to care about destroying, but now that I'm here, forced to fight against them… I can't help but wonder why they're doing it."

Ashlei snorted, "If you say any reasons they had were never revealed then it matters not. They set this path. So that the United Sanctuary… So that Cray can survive, I will not back down."

"Well, that makes two of us then," Blackmore commiserated, putting his hands behind him and leaning back against them, his eyes turning again to the sky. "Forward, forward, forward. Always forward, never back and never away, always push forward."

The words were meant to reassure himself, an oath of sorts to keep him on track, no matter what the future held, so it surprised him when Ashlei chuckled.

"I suppose I can agree with that sentiment," the Elf joined him in looking up. "We can't let ourselves stop and be crushed by indecisiveness. Let our glory never fade."

"I don't give a damn about glory, I just want to go home," The Canadian snorted, a wry grin twisting his features.

"Then perhaps you should stop referencing literature. Especially when it's not exactly the original meaning," she replied.

Trent blinked and then whined impetuously, "But I didn't mean to…"

"-Equate this to the 'Charge of the Light Brigade'? I should hope not. I rather prefer succeeding to a pointless suicide quest of glory as well."

The man sighed, "Sure that too, but I'll be honest, I don't have a lot of literature memorized off by heart. What I do have memorized is more… modern, in comparison to the Charge of the Light Brigade. Well, there's some Blake, but that's about it."

"More modern?" Ashlei questioned, her brow once more raised in question.

Trent grinned and launched into a rather memorable rhyme about a young man from West Philadelphia. As he was just finishing the rap, the knight baffled but amused by the entirety of it, a voice from the camp called out to them.

"Dame Ashlei, Blackmore! They've requested the both of you report to the command tent for a briefing!"

The duo sighed, but hopped off their seat. It seemed that the war would not wait. It kept marching forward.