Was looking for a good one of these pairings (by the way, it isn't EdgexReimi), couldn't find it; decided to type my own. No problem. Also, I don't claim this game.


"I can't believe we let that guy join our team!" bellowed a disgruntled Captain Edge Maverick.

"Come on, Edge, I'm sure it was accident," Reimi Saionji, his trusted first officer and long-time companion, tried to console him. "Mistakes like that happen all the time on the battlefield, don't take it personally."

Even with her gentle strokes at his arm, the blonde man was still seething. He'd narrowly missed getting a limb lopped off– not once, but thrice–due to a certain gray-skinned Eldarian male.

Normally, he'd let silly little mishaps on the field like that pass without a second thought. Lymle burning off the spikes on his head with a stray fire bolt? Not a problem.

"Sorry 'bout that, Edgie…but your new hair looks really, really good, 'kay?" she'd said.

Bacchus destroying his Veinslay in an attempt to add more power to his own weapon? No big deal…though he didn't know how that was supposed to work, exactly, or why in the universe he'd agreed to it.

"A slight miscalculation in my own power capacitor; your sword may have been blah blah blah, blah blah, blah. I hope you can forgive me for this gross oversight in my outdated support mechanism's ability. I shall return to the ship at once and blah blah," he'd said…basically.

He knew accidents happened, and he was okay with it. No matter what, he knew his crew would come out on top in the end–albeit a bit worse for wear.

But things he knew were no mistake? That's what pissed him off.

Things like nearly having his arms amputated and being decapitated all in a four minute span–if he had to venture a guess at the time. Things like having a saber-toothed tiger getting kicked right into his face, as if his head was some sort of blonde goal for some misbegotten Eldarian soccer. Things like using his back as a vault to slash at a harpy, and to make that scenario worse, miss.

There was no doubt in his mind that Arumat Thanatos was out to get him. That was the only possibility. It was most likely because the man found his new leader "worthless" and "foolish" and, of course, "capricious." Maybe he was jealous of Edge for being the obvious choice for leader. Even more likely, it was Crowe trying to get an even farther lead in life by using the mercenary to postpone his golden opportunity to catch up to Crowe.

To Edge Maverick, the last sketch was the obvious choice.

"Oh please, Edge, are you really going to blame Crowe for THIS too?" Reimi gave him an irritated look and tapped her heels against the steel of the captain's quarter's floor, creating a small reverberation.

Wait, he'd said that out loud?

"I don't know, why else would the guy hate me? We just met two planets ago, and I haven't said five words to him," Edge huffed in frustration. He wasn't used to having ornery, uncooperative team members. He wasn't used to having his own team anyway. Maybe this was a test from Crowe, to see if he could really handle being a captain in the SRF. That bastard had no faith in his ability, as usual.

"You know Crowe wouldn't do that, stop being so paranoid," sighed his first officer. She was getting slight annoyed at his childish mistrust of Crowe.

Dammit.

"Besides, it's not just you he dislikes. He's been a bit cold to everyone lately," she gave his shoulder a light pat, as if that was all it would take to calm him down.

Edge crossed his arms and gave her a quizzical look. "Almost slicing off my arm is being 'a bit cold'?" 'A bit cold' is ignoring his attempts at light conversation, or scoffing at his skill in battle, or doing the opposite of whatever he ordered him to do. Slicing off his arm was absolute sub-zero.

Reimi looked away at a blank monitor. "Okay, maybe a bit more than cold. But I'm sure there's a reason for it, one that doesn't have to do with Crowe," she added as an afterthought.

Yeah, right.

Edge frowned at Reimi. She always tried to see the good people. It was sort of a pain at times, and he'd usually agree with her, but with his head at stake, he wasn't too inclined to go with her on this one. And he'd just thought of the most brilliant way to not get involved.

"Hmm…," Edge began to walk around his room, around Reimi, her following him with her eyes. "You know, Reimi, you're right," he said in an overly enthused tone.

Reimi's large chocolate eyes sparkled for a moment, before narrowing in suspicion. Since when was he so willing to admit he was wrong? Something about an Edge admitting his folly and walking around her looking toward the ceiling in an inquisitive manner–and trying much too hard at it–was enough to make anyone who knew him uneasy.

"I am?" she said, slightly apprehensive.

"Yes, I mean, you usually are, right?" he finally stopped his circling and stood in her questioning gaze, as well as in front of her only exit. "Especially when it comes to people and their emotions and feelings and that sort of thing, right?" He gave her a sly smirk, and that's when she figured it out what was going on in that shaggy head of his.

He wouldn't.

"Edge…," Reimi started unsteadily, backing toward the tightly sealed window in a futile attempt to break from his stratagem into the refuge of the Roakian plains. No such luck.

"And as such, I, as captain of this ship, the SRF-003 Calnus, in recognition of your…uh, social abilities," Edge started the long speech with a few pauses, seeing as he was only copying from what he'd heard other captains say, "am here-by appointing you as our newest Inter-Company Relations…Specialist," he finished, crossing his arms with a confident nod.

Reimi looked at him, stunned for a moment, before her faced took on a scathing grimace and a frustrated blush, resembling an angry mandragora root. How dare he pass his social burden on to her? She already had enough work without trying to mediate all of his fraternal relationships.

"You can't do that, Edge! Just because you–," she began to rant, before a condescending finger tapped her small nose.

"Ah, ah, ah," Edge shook his head in a hopelessly infuriating way. "Captain's orders," he said with finality and strolled out of his room, his step much lighter, whistling a nameless, jaunty tune.

The newly appointed "Inter-Company Relations Specialist" seethed behind him as the door automatically shut, the room temperature rising a degree or two. There wasn't a thing she could do. Even if she was one of his closest friends, she was still under his order, and it enraged her to no end that he'd use his position to basically say, "Hey, fix my problems again."

It wasn't like she was on better terms with Arumat than he was, although he hadn't tried to slice her up yet. The thought that he might try scared her. Sure, she was athletic, she could probably dodge an attempt from most adversaries, but Arumat was anatomically altered to fight to the best of his ability. From what she observed in battle with him–observation, comprehension and translation, her ACTUAL duties–he was a physical and mental powerhouse; extremely strong, inhuman reflexes, adept at finding an opponent's weak-point, a more intimidating adversary than any of the grigori they'd faced so far.

If he decided he was annoyed with her probing at his psyche to find the root of his aggression, he could simple pull out that scythe of his and show her that it wasn't a good idea to try and have a therapy session with the self-proclaimed "Grim Reaper". Did Edge even know he was putting her life in danger in the stead of his? Jerk.

Reimi sighed, letting her residual irritation flow out. This wouldn't be a big deal. She was generally good with people. She'd held back Edge and Crowe from fighting numerous times; she was used to overflowing testosterone. She'd go in, ask what was up, and get out. No problem–which was what she'd like to believe.

She'd had little to no interaction with the man ever since he begrudgingly joined their little coalition, and even then, he wasn't acting as harsh as he was now. Maybe he had a splinter in his foot?

Nevertheless, Reimi had a job to do, a job that she should not have had to do, one she should force back on its owner. But one thing kept her from following "superior orders"; that silly little thing that led many a human to their demise. It wasn't stupidity, or love, or imprudent optimism, but curiosity.

Curiosity was the reason she ventured to find out more about a half-charred Federation Scientific Development Department document labeled Project Hope. Curiosity, along with her two boys, was the reason she took training courses for the first reconnaissance mission. Curiosity was the reason she fiddled with a defective comm.-link and singed her ear. And now, it would be the reason she was going to find out what was wrong with Arumat Thanatos.

Couldn't be worse that dealing with Deputy Director Shimada, right?


I'll try my best to keep it up regularly. (8