Major thanks to KisaragiKei for helping write this, dude you're awesome!
000
One week later…
Manswell hummed, tugging at his tie with a flourish. He idly smoothed his striped shirt, sans jacket, fully prepared for the meeting in a few minutes. Less so for when he glanced into his mirror, finding a woman peering at him in his doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed.
Finishing his tie, he turned to smile. "Minister Mass, rest assured that I have the notes-"
"Knock it off." Sayla barely twitched her expression at him going quiet. "You know what I mean. There's ten million lives riding on this meeting, straighten up your act."
"Forgive me for seeing my dreams come true before my eyes." Tugging at his shirt, he narrowed his brow. "Believe it or not, I can understand the gravity of a situation. I treated Primarch Quintus flippantly because I recognized he was the canny sort, what with the unannounced visit and chill attitude. If he was a hardass like Kuril, I'd be restrained."
"You say that. What I saw was the way you acted must have made that primarch think he could buy our home for some treats. The only reason I didn't cut things short is because you had enough sense to avoid making any agreements." Sayla stood up, arms still crossed. "We're putting our future to a vote now. Whether we'll be tying ourselves to the Hierarchy or going our own way, that is decided here."
"Fine, restrained it is." Manswell walked as Sayla moved out of the way, sending her a glance. "I'll be polite and respectful. Like omitting that you tried tampering with the plebiscite."
Salta merely glared, following him down the short walk to the conference room. Buried deep within Texas Colony HQ, dozens of armed guards protected this room and many keypad locks, thick blast doors ensuring no one was getting in at a whim; security was a bitter joke to even pre-OYW facilities back in Sol. The Titans would have shot anyone who got within a few kilometers of the facility, Manswell claimed the labyrinthian measures Anaheim used were an enigma to even a former executive like him.
Milling outside the room was a guest that Sayla insisted on bringing, who mustered himself under the watchful eyes of a guard; Captain Cincinnato put away a datapad that he said he used for paperwork, still clad in his armor yet without a weapon. His mandibles twitched as they approached, nodding in greeting.
"Captain, apologies for making you wait. I had to brush up on some data." Manswell gave a small curtsy.
"It is no problem. I cleared my duties for this morning." Cincannato cast his eyes aside for a second.
"All the same. Shall we?" Manswell threw open the doors, striding inside.
Sayla met his gaze as she followed, feeling a twinge of pity under her security concerns. When pressed, he reluctantly admitted his armor had recording and active transmission functions. If not for the lingering M-particle interference, he could stream the meeting live. She considered carefully how much involvement he would have here; the others would need information she didn't have, which meant he had to be present.
There were four officials present in seats, heading for the different ministries administering the core functions of the expedition. Not the whole of the colonial government by far. They were the upper echelons summoned for secret matters.
The first to rise was a blonde woman in a suit, who nodded as the others straightened up.
"Sir, ma'am, and sir." Greeted Regina Eschonbach, head of agriculture and one of their top logistics experts. She nodded again while Sayla took a chair, offering one beside her for Cincannato, only lowering when they seated themselves. The elder daughter of a collaborator mayor during the OYW, her sister's affair with Garma Zabi ruined any future she had on Earth despite going underground with the resistance, thus had few ties to sever.
"Director." A darker tinted man greeted without rising, clad in an open vested suit with his balding head showing hair scuffles; Durrel Francis was his name, chief of Citizens Affairs and acting constabulary head, a long time ago the administrator of Mahal colony in Side 3. To this day Sayla had a few reservations regarding him, but he had no love for the Republic or the Zabis. His remaining connections helped rally many Mahal citizens and general malcontents in Zeon to leave Sol.
"You're late." Groused the next official, a thickly built man in an ill fitting business suit which he scratched at, one Alphonse Salmund. A former guerrilla fighter brought on by the Rosita group, against Sayla's expectations he not only won the election for Austin city's Mayor office (thus representing the single largest population bloc in the colonies), but actually did a decent job of managing the city. Alphonse had repeatedly butted heads with the others, in particular with Eschonbach regarding the rice paddies water supply, and he rarely had a pleasant word to say about Francis either.
Nodding last was Captain Synapse, composed as ever in his dress uniform. In these meetings, he rarely used his position's authority, citing worries over precedent being established for the military to have a guiding hand in the government. Being the head of the total fleet ensured he would have a say in matters, regardless.
There was one official missing. It did not surprise Sayla to see him absent. Nor was she surprised for Manswell to clap.
"Right, let's begin the meeting. The topic for this week is about a request personally made by Primarch Quintus during an unannounced visit-" Sayla coughed. "In which he made a couple of the book's proposals. And no, I didn't make any agreements." Manswell waved his hands.
"Good." Grunted Salmund.
"Before I delve into the details, Captain Cincannato?" Manswell added after a second, though Synapse merely nodded. "Can you give us a short-"
The click of a door interrupted him, the room glancing at the entrance opening, admitting a strange fellow in a vested suit and leather gloves. While tall, he was thin to the point of emaciated, the pale skin on his head completely bald. While he appeared to be in his early forties, the way he walked was of someone much older.
"My apologies for being tardy." Greeted Markus Tiol, lifting bloodshot eyes to the group. Representing the manufacturing sector in Banna, the Jovian born official worked diligently to ensure their haphazard industry remained in working order.
"It's alright, if you need more time off- "Eschonbach started, but the other shook his head.
"No, that's fine. I've been neglecting my duties long enough. The least I can do is to be present for this meeting." Tiol nodded while shuffling to his chair, rippling his fingers after sitting. Tugging off his gloves under their concerned gazes, Sayla noticed the scar tissue on top of his palms, where tattoos had burnt off. A mark of Jovian citizenship, he called it, always with a bitter chuckle.
Cincannato cleared his throat. "May I… inquire about your absence?"
"Of course. It's… my daughter was a sailor aboard the Georgia. Chia volunteered years ago. She loved starships, everything about them. She wanted to see your ships up close-" Tiol caught himself with a small shudder. "Apologies. They destroyed the ship during the battle, went down with all hands."
"I see… I am sorry." Cincannato tipped his head.
"You did what you could. It's good enough for me." Francis said, resolute at Salmund, sending him a brief glare while Sayla and Eschonbach gave Tiol sympathetic glances.
"Erm, yes, regardless. Thank you for coming." Manswell cleared his throat. "To bring everyone up to speed, basically Primarch Quintus, the head of government for this sector. Right?" He received a nod from Cincannato. "Offered a deal in which we would assist with developing a domestic turian Mobile Suit in exchange for greater aid. He cited reactors as an example."
Although he looked cross at him brushing off Tiol, Francis shifted in his seat. "Is that normal here? I mean, authorizing a project like that? In the Principality, there were a lot of individual projects by competing groups, even within them sometimes. The Hierarchy seems way too centralized for that."
"Ordinarily no. There are some design and manufacturing variances between sectors regarding specific needs. To my knowledge, it's usually for minor things like small arms or armor. Exceptions are rare; I'm aware of one planet which specializes in producing cold adapted vehicles, for example. Otherwise, all manufacturing is to be done to central standards. R&D decisions like this are rare outside of the Trebia system. Nobody wants a competing design wasting resources during a war." Cincannato clicked his mandibles. "That said, technically speaking, as Primarch it is within his authority to commission this project. Just normally one would confer with his contemporaries first. I have no doubt he already sent the relevant paperwork back to Palaven."
"Do we have a list of what they're giving?" Eschonbach asked.
"I wanna know why they need our help." Salmund grunted.
"Experience is my assumption." Sayla chimed in. "It's doubtful any help we offer, whether it be design cues or pilot expertise, will be useful. He seemed willing to take the risk, though." While he spun a ridiculous story.
"Yes, Primarch Quintus is an… unusual official. But I doubt he would suggest a joint project if he didn't believe it had merit. For what it's worth, your mobile suits in action impressed me. I suspect it's why Primarch Quintus wished for me to head the project." Cincannato supplied.
"There's a list here of potential volunteers among our remaining pilots, if anyone is interested." Synapse raised a paper.
"As for the trade, I intend to get a complete list in writing before agreeing to anything, or rather, we agree. We're gonna get paid fairly for this." Manswell nodded.
"With your permission, I'll bring in a selection of experts in the relevant fields when you do. I won't claim they will be entirely accurate, but it's wise to have someone else look over things." Tiol added.
Sayla sent Manswell a glance, then cleared her throat. "As a separate matter, Quintus also floated the idea of hiring humans for extrasolar mining. His estimate was for approximately forty thousand workers."
Simultaneously Francis, Eschonbach, and Salmund did double takes, even Synapse widened his eyes.
"He cited labor shortages." Sayla fixed Cincannato with a stare.
"That is also under his purview, though I confess I've never heard of it being done with non-turians before." He explained, maw flinching under their stares. "Apologies; This field is outside of my expertise. I'm not familiar enough with the Digeris economics to tell if things are that critical."
"Forty thousand, at least?" Francis checked, getting a nod from Sayla.
Eschonbach grimaced. "I… suppose it makes sense from what I've picked up. On Earth it wasn't unheard of in pre-Federation conflicts to seek foreign laborers, frees up more of your own citizens for military service. This war has been raging for fifty years now. However, numbers are a problem for both sides. The sheer size of the Hierarchy, there's how many colonies? Erm, anyway, forty thousand, sixty, a million, it'd be a drop in the bucket. No, a drop in the ocean."
"Depends on where. Would help the economy here." Salmund of all people grunted, brow creased. "Know what you're talking about, and it ain't usually for war. Helps keep costs down when you're out to make a buck."
"Regardless, we don't have the numbers to do more than band-aid the requirements of a planetary system. Imagine if a single colony's involvement could have swayed the One Year War." Eschonbach continued.
"One did." Sayla stated flatly, aware of Francis clearing his throat.
"… My point; Is that we don't exactly have citizens to spare. Not for the requirements, just a single system's industry could require. Without compatible food sources, this doesn't lessen the burden on our agriculture either." She finished.
"Correcting that with our preferred long-term goal is not viable either. Building a new O'Neill cylinder would take a minimum of a decade before we could house anyone there, and require many of the same specialists this mining plan needs. Unless?" Tiol eyed Manswell lighting up.
"You want me to ask if we can build, no, better? Lease some old stations for repurposing?" He checked.
Sayla cleared her throat. She wanted to voice her own concerns about the proposal, namely that she was sure it was a pity display; Sayla picked up enough information through Cincannato and the other turians to tell they believed in earning aid that while the state was obliged to help its citizens, they were supposed to repay it back in full. At least on paper, of all people, she knew how many forms corruption could take. But taken at face value, viewed through this cultural lens, a work offer sounded like their version of charity, at least from what she could put together. For all she knew, Quintus was simply using cheap labor to cut costs.
Right now, she was interested in the first point. "We've drifted off topic. Yes, I know it was my fault. I want to circle back to the MS plan. That was a point Quintus pushed for. Your opinions?"
She did little besides glance sideways. It was enough for Cincannato to cough, and with care he pushed his chair away, looking stiff without being because of the seat.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave now. I look forward to assisting you again." Nodding his head, he departed the room.
When the door clicked shut, Manswell steepled his fingers, brushing off Salya's stare. "Now then, I need to set up another face-to-face meeting with Quintus to hammer out details, but provisionally speaking? Who here is for helping the turians build Mobile Suits?"
000
Lowering the paper to the table, Shiro frowned in thought. Intrigue warred with concern, leading him to entwine his fingers with Aina's hand, his other limb seeking Kyo's shoulder for a hug. The little girl whined quietly, not entirely understanding what was going on, only grasping that it wasn't good. Beside her Norris cringed, seeking to be the elder sibling but not knowing how to help.
"Sir, ma'am… you know what you're asking of us." Shiro said after a moment, squeezing his family for comfort.
Across the table Synapse nodded, rubbing a hand under his cap. "I've received numerous assurances regarding conditions. While you will stay, largely, to the installations the turians specified, you are to be treated as any of their instructors. There's also some non-disclosure orders, but I don't expect that to be a problem."
Aina coughed into a fist. "Sir. You've done much to assuage my worries, but nonetheless, I am concerned about this time frame they're giving. A year to eighteen months is a long time; Regular contact would be hard with M-particles and whatever security measures they have. You're aware of this?"
"I am. I will note again that this is largely the preliminary stage. We're still working on hammering out details." Synapse leaned back, sending a glance to his partner. He wore his old uniform. She had clean fatigues bereft of her usual equipment, arms crossed with barely a word since she arrived.
Grissom shifted in her seat, her scarred expression loosening enough to sigh. "Guessing you'll say that your record isn't good enough for this mission. That I or Keith or Mackenzie are better suited."
"You want my friendly act? How can I get people to work together despite their differences?" Shiro frowned.
"Essentially. As far as piloting goes, you're middling." Grissom wiggled a hand.
"Harsh." He muttered, shaking his head. "I get why. Just… I can't leave my family behind, Grissom. You understand, don't you?"
Grissom inhaled, nodding with a momentary shudder.
Synapse cleared his throat. "As mentioned, this is in the planning stages. Most of the fine points aren't set in stone yet. Mackenzie, Hickam, and Healy are onboard. If you feel your presence is superfluous, then you're free to withdraw."
"How many personnel are involved right now?" Aina asked, sending Shiro a small wince.
"Counting myself, we have four primary instructors. Keith and Healy are going to be aggressor pilots for training, once we're acclimated to the new units. Mackenzie is going to be the chief test pilot for the prototypes, but I'm planning on getting some flight time as well." Grissom glanced sideways before looking at them.
Aina gestured for Norris to come to her side, frowning thoughtfully. "And… what facilities do they have down there?"
"I'm not… entirely sure; I'll need to check." Synapse widened his eyes, coughing into a fist.
"Eighteen months is a long time away from your family. So… is there room for another instructor?" Aina asked, staring ahead as Shiro and Norris shot her double takes. "I'm rusty, to put it lightly, but I was a good test pilot during the War. When we left Earth, I operated an old Gelgoog enough to hold off the Titans before they deployed mobile suits. I can contribute. And as such, we'll need to keep the children on the grounds."
"I'll have to verify if they'll be alright with, ah, your conditions. But if they say no, then my hands are tied." Synapse replied.
Grissom rubbed her chin. "I know why you're suggesting it, but I have been trying to get some diverse skill sets for training purposes. Space, ground, even atmo stuff, but from what I've picked up these new machines they've started building differ greatly from what we're used to. Perhaps a more clean slate approach could help, in case there're habits we need to unlearn."
"Hang on-" Shiro grimaced at Aina, putting her palm over his.
"I know, but think about it. Alright?" She half pleaded.
Shiro grumbled. "Leaving aside the big problem, you know we can ask Kiki to watch out for the kids. She's done it before."
"I know, hon, but I want to be there for you. And I don't want my children's father away for a year or better, nor do I want to be away from them." Aina gave a small, forced smile.
"I'll have to verify things with the liaison. Regardless, take your time. I don't expect an answer so soon." Synapse finished restocking his papers. "I'll come back in a couple of days. I have to check in with a few other candidates. And yes, I'll ask about the facilities."
000
In geosynchronous orbit above the southern landmass of Digeris, a station drifted high from the surface. A newer facility built in the past year, created from Castellus resources, but it followed the specifications from Hierarchy design bureaus, thus resembling nothing less than a metal slab in the shape of a cross. Six hundred meters at its longest point, the station began life as a manufacturing plant specializing in producing alloys in zero-g, conserving eezo for applications requiring higher gravity. As of two weeks ago, its purpose had changed.
Construction was ongoing when a shuttle touched down in a hangar, ferried from the outer system. While the Corps of Engineers cleared space in preparation of filling the station with all manner of research and fabrication machinery, atmosphere cycled into the airlock, allowing the passengers to exit safely. Escorted by a handful of guides, the dozen VIPs trekked to the new development center within the station's guts.
Once the party was through the security checkpoint, they were brought to a sizable laboratory, a clean room which was filled with unpacked equipment, dominated by a table rising from the floor. Several plain clothed turians were present already, halting their efforts to set up workstations to glance over, and for one, to walk to greet them.
Leading the impromptu party, a blonde woman in a well-maintained suit clutched tight to her briefcase, nodding in greeting to her apparent counterpart approaching her. A small shiver rolled through her, sticking out a hand.
"Greetings, I'm Nina Uraki, of the Colonial Delegation. Pleased to meet you." She greeted, noticing a couple of her colleagues were gazing around the room in abject wonder.
After a second, the turian with white striped markings took her palm, shaking once with his mandibles moving before letting go.
"Likewise. I am Professor Gyras Armax, the project manager on loan from Tallun Central University in Apparitus. I specialize in software development, though I have some talent with ballistics research. These are doctors Nyvil and Clomor, reactor development specialists." He gestured to two other turians. "The rest of the staff are due to arrive tomorrow, including the aerospace engineers and vehicle technicians. As you can see, we're still putting things together here."
"Then we should get some suitable spots while we're here. Anyway, this is Doctor Karla Lorenz, cybernetic engineer." Nina gestured to her side.
The bespectacled woman nodded uneasily, but managed a small smile. While not Nina's first choice of technician by far, keeping her away from this work was going to be difficult. "Ah, pleasure to meet you."
"She knows the insides and outs of a mobile suit's joint system. She's your expert in figuring out how to make them move. And for your general design expert, this is Chief Engineer Tengen Kasshu". Nina nodded to a bushy-haired young man, who smiled.
"Nice to meet ya. Love your lab setup, it's a hell of a lot better than our old Granada facility." He greeted warmly.
Introductions went on from there; The turians were professional, while the humans were far more informal; the qualification gap between the two groups was concerning, discounting the human's ad hoc nature. Nonetheless; Things proceeded smoothly enough for just a greeting.
At the end, Armax brought his hands together. "Right then. Now, once all our respective staff have arrived, my plan is to spend a local week going over the computers and outlining the project goals. The requested specifications are more lax than what we're used to, so we have room to move around in."
"That's generous of you, Professor. But may I suggest an addition?" Nina walked to set her briefcase on the table, cracking it open.
Inside was a bulky computer, top of the line five years ago; next to this equipment, it might as well have been an abacus. She rippled her fingers, lighting up the screen while several turians peered from behind her.
"This here is all the technical data I could gain before I left Anaheim, plus some other work I've tinkered on in the past few years, as well as contributions from the Karaba team and some pieces former Zeonic employees gained." Technical specs flew past, blueprints for mobile suits, weapon systems, and engines shown. "Now, how do I…"
Armax raised a claw, but Nina was already fumbling with the controls, flinching a little when a holographic pane sprouted above the table. A few more button presses clicked open a small device, which mirrored one side to the pane.
"I could have shown you that." He said as she held it to the screen, hitting a button which began recording.
"And you shall. My suggestion is that while you teach us how to use your equipment, your team can study this." Nina halted at one image, showing the technical specifications of a mobile suit's head unit. One that had a V shaped fin on its forehead. "Ah, this one. This is the blueprint of the Gundam Mark II."
Nina didn't look, but Karla, Kasshu, and several members of the human team stared long and hard at it.
"Gun-dam? Looks interesting." Armax leaned in to examine it.
"It's based on a Federation prototype mobile suit during the One Year War, a total overhaul instead of the updated models I used to work on. My… my husband piloted one of them a few years ago." Nina closed her eyes, taking a breath of processed air. Anger, regret, grief; all boiled within her, never to be cured. Her promise to the man she betrayed would never be fulfilled now, repentance for her crimes would forever remain out of her reach.
"My sympathies. But I agree with you." Mercifully, Armax missed her signs, looking over the hodgepodge team. "Alright everyone, this is going to be a tricky affair for us all. But they gave us eighteen months to have a prototype ready for launch. I aim to meet that deadline. To all my colleagues, we're going to give it our all."
Nina turned, pushing aside her feelings to nod. "I agree. This won't be easy, but challenges are what we engineers live for. So, let's get started."